No Voice - No Choice
No voice - no choice -
Our staggered births
Cocoon and tune our way -
Inside a frame with aged edge -
Composed of all before.
Within the wind
That turns and burns -
We try to see what is -
But all alone within the map -
We fight to find our truth.
And so we go and so we know -
What is within our lurch -
The time - the tide
Then sucks us in
And suffocates our birth.
Joy Weare,
10th July, 2009.
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