Tight

From the beginning, I came with my fists held tight
When I exited my mother's womb, I screamed and readied myself for a fierce fight
A fight I didn't understand at the time...
Way before the development of my prefrontal cortex and mind
But something peculiar sat in my spirit...
Coyly poking and nudging me to be intuit
And into it I was
But over time I started to lose my buzz
As I grew, no longer was I mirthfully floatin' and stingin'
Still, I was in the ring, and the fight they kept bringin'...

Fighting for a seat at the table___
After I was released from Dad's steel hands and Mama's nurturing ladle

Fighting for my voice to be heard in a world with stuffed ears
Fighting, just fighting to abolish my creeping fears

Fighting for my sweet, sweet dreams...
With my clenched hands, I still hold them, but so far away they seem

Fighting, fighting to experience peace and joy in the golden light
But soon--oh, too soon-- the fists become less tight
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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