BOWED STILL I STRIDE
Your purpose seems hell-bent on serving to demassify me –
when will you learn that unlike the storms that have reshaped your landscape,
I will never seek higher ground.
I will not compartmentalize to fit any ideal but my own;
bowed still I stride,
and when your voice hits hurricane pitch in protest, I will know I lived free of compromise
© Copyright 2015 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.