Inside each heart, there is a victim who
Is waiting for someone who knows the wrong
Button to push, to make you gladly do
A slow dance to a self-destructive song.
Inside that victim is the strength to say
“No more!”—but weakness binds you to your pains—
The courage to stand up and disobey
Knee-capped by fear of living without chains.
Inside us all is something that finds joy
In our unhappiness—that fills our dreams
With emptiness—that plays us like a toy
And glorifies a passion that blasphemes.
“That’s you, not me!” I hear you proudly say.
But all that means is, it’s not you today.
Copyright 2015 Matthew J Wells