The past beneath me is not fit to carry me to my future. The rocks under my feet barely sustain the burden of my soul.
I stand here alone, with legs that cannot move, with a mind that cannot believe. The energy within me is lost with the struggle. No more strength for the journey.
I try to listen to the voices telling me to make it on my own. I hear the silence of my individuality. For all the power that is given to me, no one hears me when I speak. I try to tell them I am too weak. They divide me too thin and then wonder why I am not seen.
I am prepared to become mean. However, at what point is the sentence more severe than the offense? If I cannot run, will the mountain consume me? I do not wish to be lost, I do not wish to be forgotten.
Perhaps if I were to be seen…
How can I be seen?...
(c) Marc Noël 2003