Arms

Written by: Allison Ballard

I count arms as a privelege
as well as good words
 Hands are my advocate,
and clearly, you're not,
through the sand and sadness
 a good keeper of my heart
 
I'm not a thing to fold
or be sold to your
casual touch
 
Who are YOU to mold me
to bind me, to stand in my way
My father is the sun
and yet you've not seen 
 
your eyes are intact
your head is erect
your mouth ablaze
 
You say sand is worthy
But I see the rock from whence it came
 
I've kept my mouth shut
But today I will fight
It's time for the king to reclaim his crown
my mouth, my life