Inside each heart, there is a victim who
Is waiting for
someone who knows the wrong
Button to push, to make you gladly do
A slow dance to a
self-destructive song.
Inside that victim is the strength to say
“No more!”—but weakness
binds you to your pains—
The courage to stand up and disobey
Knee-capped by
fear of living without chains.
Inside us all is something that finds joy
In our
unhappiness—that fills our dreams
With emptiness—that plays us like a toy
And glorifies a
passion that blasphemes.
“That’s you,
not me!” I hear you proudly say.
But all that
means is, it’s not you today.
Copyright 2015 Matthew J Wells
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