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Poem

Everybody has a locker 
It's where we go, it's who we are
A number and a place
Our expertise awaits us there
And with it, our destiny
We find it or it finds us

Mohammed Ali had his eye on a locker with a championship belt inside
That was someone else's locker
And people said he didn't know his place
The critics were silenced when he wrapped his hands and put on gloves

Albert Einstein kept an odd locker
Haphazard notes. Ridiculous theories
The mathematical equivalent of a schizophrenic rant
Nobody knew this "lunatic" was rewriting science
He changed the world

There's an old locker in France that holds the sign of a warrior
Battered armor and a well used blade
It speaks of a hero
This locker held the allegiance of a nation and the respect of kings
It now holds the ashes of a fierce fighter who's footprint dented Europe forever
She was a teenage peasant named Joan of Arc

Everybody has a locker
We find it or it finds us
We can either hang our coats
Or walk on 

By Kyle Ezra Kriticos

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