Provocation

Proactive art and language surrounds me,

Drowns me,

In its' wake,

I'm helpless against this tide of hate,

A jeering sing-song voice clouts,

Oppression is spun into heavenly doubts,

Will my soul reach the clouds?

Or, will I just become cowed...?

Anger boils deep within me,

Alas I am pressured to be,

A mere shadow,

For I "must" follow,

In the footsteps of my Maker,

God forbidden I become bitter,

And, thus another enabler,

Standing on the sidelines like a beggar,

Unable to lift my voice for my fellow sinners,

I will not let censors,

Disguise or incapacitate, provocateur.