BREAK ME, BUT DON'T TAKE ME

Hard to believe I was ever whole
Without a device to help me get around
Movement was natural and fluid
Bright and brilliant, like light and sound

In an environment of fear and doubt
Beauty is but a whistle of air
Just surviving creatures of the dark
Moving from here to there

The broken tend to be resilient
Strong, beyond the parts of self they leave behind
It becomes habit to avoid and release
The damaged and useless parts of the mind

The moving van is loaded, I can see
They are ready to go...without a backward glance
But something deep inside DEMANDS
"Give them a chance!!!"

I run up a mountain of stairs
To the attic, it would seem
A white light beckoned me to see
A room of people, I failed to esteem

White beds held their invalid bodies
They cried loudly, but didn't make a move
What's the point of trying to leave
When you can, never again, fully choose

All the loss, how can one cope
The only way out is to run
It's easier to use, lose, and leave
All of "IT" behind...when the job is done

Seeing fully, the checkered pattern
Suggests, "I," not "Them," valued the white
Never allowing the dark to play
A single piece, in their loosing fight

But legs aren't required for this
My heart demands I experience this loss
The van is leaving
And I haven't the way or means to carry this heavy cross

Shall I stand and cry
Remorse will not move a thing
Or let the van go
And find the equipment for what I must bring

   ~to The City of Refuge~

Written by Trudy Schrader on 4/28/2017