having and sharing

So much of what appears
has been something made by hand,
like words written to shift a gear
to relieve what had once been banned.

It’s our fists that reach the ceiling
while our feet stomp out the floor.
That beating heart
of a forgotten feeling
like it were something we all sent for.

Now it seems to me
that its all too clear
and it’s hanging by a strand,
hanging there like a final fear
that shakes us
where we stand.

It’s “a” world
that has us kneeling,
one of many at the door,
only promising us that healing
after asking for so much more.

Because things like talk
can go both ways
and reputations can be smeared.
Being locked in a daze
like some broken maze
that invites the things we fear.

I find we’re doing things in spite
when the changes
are close at hand.
Those things in life
we want to fight
that’ve gotten out of hand.

It’s why we come
to these places at night
where our lives can be revealed.
We take each other beyond our sight
where our hopes can’t be concealed.

Because its in our nature
to share ourselves
and bring others through these thoughts.
And we need to forget
what often sells
so we can drop
the things we’ve bought.

We’re here to save the strangers,
those we walk past and ignore.
The ones who fear
and have no idea
that they’re standing on a dance floor.


About Sean O'Gorman

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

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