THE TRAMPLED ONES
                             or my blood is my own





  so tired and worn frowning there
beside your gray faces
Your old bluish-gray wrinkled one
Your younger well-worn one
  standing there slumped like infants
                              when they fall
so easily; totter and fall, slumped
         totter and fall, dumped
you are so disappointing 
  you feed this spoiled child
you give him a place to sleep
       you let him sleep in your bed-
You 
  who cries on the new tile
You 
  who empties the garbage
You 
  who dries up the blood-stains on the table and floor

you disgust me
  you worthless helpless children, weeping 
quickly and easily like a puppy
       totter and fall, slumped 
       totter and fall, blind newborn





i am the strong one
i close my doors 
i stand.
        i stand, erect and alone
unlike you tiny slumping babies
             humps in the backs of your souls so weak
tears water your toes
   muscles soften
You let him beat them down 
    and they love him
I built my walls; I killed my soul
         I am happy. 


And you
You run; you were overcome
or you
You stay; and are trampled
or you 
You embrace; and are strangled
or you 
You accept; and are muffled

I scream 
I weep 
I yell 
I snarl
I write
I
 laugh


                   And I am not trampled.


 

                                                           my blood is my own













copyright 1997 Rachael Lee