My Strength
Tonsils tight with apprehension as I peer at this place
A docile and colorful tapestry of tiny men in hues
Of russet, and pistachio with shiny golden faces
As the herd of apple elephants ensues
The tiny girl, copper curls whispering in the wind,
Stood a meager tea cup against many red giants
But when the gentle cup did not rescind
The red giants wondered at her lack of defiance.
They slowed to agitated stomps in the sand
Investigating her with anticipatory eyes
When the Crimson leader raised his hand
Why aren’t you afraid to die!
It is the truth I am after, no lies live here
Her silence only confirmed to them her strength
They nervously backed off, flapping ears
Back in submission to their crowded dens.
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