I Will

I am a tight rope walker
arms out, muscles tense, fighting gravity
crowds gather to watch my fall

 

I am a ship in a bottle 
trapped behind a wall of glass
yearning for a sea I was not made for

 

I am a stray dog
head down, tail tucked 
trained to cower at the hand

 

But I am also a seedling hidden beneath leaves 
my shoots search for cracks of sun
gulping down the sparse flecks that come my way
I am growing, pushing through the dead and rot
I will earn my taste of sun

 

Because I will be a boxer
arms up, muscles tense, fighting demons 
Crowds gather for my victory

 

Because I will be a ship at sea
sailing for the horizon
yearning for no more than the next sun rise

 

Because I will believe I am worthy or respect
I will hold my head high with shoulders back
I will show them what I'm made of

This poem is about: 
Me

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