Poetry Break!

In the style of the awesome Maya Angelou, whom I have always admired.

My Ground

You can call me names,

You can trash me down,

You can say my world is wrong and wrapped up in my own point.

You can shoot me down,

You can play me off.

You can do all this

But mister,

I know my ground.

I know my ground.

My ground stands still under me,

My ground is open and strong.

I know my ground.

You can beat around the bush,

You can hem and haw,

You can hide yourself away like Fort Knox under quarantine.

You can spout anger,

You can cry “Foul!”

You can do all this

But mister,

I know my ground.

I know my ground.

My ground communicates,

My ground shares and returns in both good and bad.

I know my ground.

You can accuse me with that finger,

You can shove me in that box,

You can close your ears and heart to what I say.

You can wait for any excuse,

You can paint that whole picture if it makes you feel better.

You can do all this,

But mister,

I know my ground.

I know my ground.

 My ground says it like it is.

My ground is flat out with no games.

I know my ground.

Running through the earth,

Running through me,

My ground steadies and holds.

Heals and grows. 

Breaks

and once again flows.

I know my ground.

Kara Stewart, 2009