– A Poem by Roxanne Harris
This curse of mine has no subtlety
Lying dormant it brought civility
This curse of mine, a creative mind
Lines are blurred, boundaries are left to find
What is it I seek, if only I knew
To create, to love, to live, to brew?
What then is a pastime, what then is the plan?
Why then does my heart search beneath the sand
Left to each grain, I ponder the world
I think up mountains, I create a swirl
I do not box it in, this corrosive soil
for as it corrodes it creates a new foil
This new foil, like earth, wind and fire
Together corrode all my attire
The clothes I wore to define me
Ripped from my body, are now beside me
