Numbers and voices : In dedication to Hodan Ibrahim and Ivy Lee Deavy.

Her lips hit the microphone
and it made me want to write this,
write this,
not fight this
and scream
just to hold something tight.
In these rooms
she speaks to us all
from story-lines
of glory-times,
fallen hopes
and touched desires
and we do all we can
just to listen.
She breaks the chains
we wont see
and wills us to believe
in the forgotten.
To believe
and conceive
that no one person
can know all sides.
And she rescues us
from drowning in pride.
And all alone
I’m standing here,
sanding these words
into the kind of curves
that can do her justice.
But I was born
with a fear of failure
where the retailers
only sell copies of what I need
and this need
is just the greed
of knowing you
and standing beside you
is what happens on purpose
and the comforts we have
will only rely on
those lonely thoughts
we’ve left behind.
On these long walks
through hopeful days
where we know
that the numbers grow
and those ideas of unity
are actually there
and are aware
that we are too.
Standing strong
in the places
where we can double
our numbers and voices
and believe in the choices
that every last one of us
showed up to make together.


About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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