Reid@YWP

five years spent practicing, learning, building community around myself, so beautiful

here on the mats, ponytail swinging, laughter,

saturdays from nine to ten-thirty, then eight to ten-thirty,

My mother wasn’t born this strong.

No, her strength comes from years of labor.

Labor of the body, 

Labor of the mind.

My mother’s shoulders are strong;

Black and white

The conflict the world can't seem to get over

Why can't we all just be people?

This is no difficult task, to accept others

The sky is not falling

Chicken Little went home

I wish this corrupted land was not my home

The politicians flew too close to the sun

I have now learned how a cheeto can run

The sky is falling 

It lives in cupped hands

Around sorry ears,

Behind closed mouths shut up tight,

A wrench in the steel factory gears.

A hidden prism refracting light,

Shining through the cracks in firmly pressed fingers.