Reader submission- anon

·

, ,

Feeling acted upon and frail,
Minute examinations of each moment,
Never failing to find evidence (and excuses),
Race, class, age, height, voice – whatever’s at hand –
To explain why they all hate me

Is this the triumphant verse?
The one where I’m post-, post-, post-..?
The one where I’m happy and free?
The one with history carried lightly,
Only existing as edited earlier references,
In tales of victory?

The truth might be,
That my goals are now circumscribed,
That my vision grows myopic,
That narrowing of hope
Means narrowing of despair;
Happiness.

-Anon