Poem: In The Midst

Searching amidst the rubble; obsessed with the search.  
Hoping to find, not sure what treasure lies beneath.
Tempestuous! Argumentative! No longer silenced.
Who speaks for the mute, the vulnerable, those beneath the fringes of society?

The privileged minority seeks to control the narrative.
Where is the justice? Is there a price?
Reclaim your voice. Speak up! No one else will.
Oh, that silver spoon. Detested? Admired?

Do not be swayed by those cloaked in their positions of opportunity;
as they moved about like princes of a forgotten kingdom.
Do not be jealous of the ‘haves’. The ‘have nots’ are just as worthy, perhaps more so.  
Success is classless, colourless.

The half is untold.
Look around you, what do you see?
Jealous of the night.  Awash with sweat.
Daybreak is upon us.

Replicating that which you abhor.
Grinding, gritting, complacent.   
It’s within your power to change;
Genes.

Jealous of the day. Opportunities wasted.
Put your shoulders to the wheel.
It’s never too late to remove from the midst.
Navigate if you must.   

By Wayne Campbell
©


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