new beginnings

wait for us to

keep an open mind.

they sit at the steps

until we squeeze past

them to the door.

singing to us these

impressive, impending

triumphs. “be brave.”

we don’t listen. we are rebel

children without strategy.

we live with anger.

pride as our dishonest guide.

black paint on our walls.

we haul buckets of burgundy

and splash all that we were

given. destroying everything

because we feel we deserve


tainted our gifts.

we color our dark hair gold.


of those against the revolution.

the revolution is self love,

says the approaching

beginnings. they lean in.

angels disguised as ghosts.

our walls are purified.


viva the lessons.

Published by Jaz


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