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Poetry
That
Independent Feeling
Wasn't
it on a cool, crispy night like this when you stood on this very
soil in anticipation of his words?
Wasn't it on a night like this, 44 years ago, when you felt the
slight breeze blowing through your soul, as though even nature
were trying to blow away your might?
Wasn't it on such a night as this when all the beings in the land,
man and animal alike, seemed to sit in a breathless silence in
wait of that special moment?
Yes, it was on a night like this, when his voice rang through the
night fighting against the wind, lighting the fire that already
burned inside you.
Yes, it was a night much like this when the nation set aside their
words and skin for one special moment when only the blood that
coursed through their veins seemed to matter.
Yes, it was a night like this, not long ago, when the stars
twinkled a little brighter as though to congratulate all those
that had the very same stars twinkling in their eyes.
Yes, it was on a night like this that few years ago when only a
single word gave birth to a countless stream of tears that washed
away their pain, sorrow and hardship leaving only hopes and dreams
to be fulfilled.
As I stand here on this very night, I find my own cleansing tears
fighting their way out as we did so long ago.
And as I stand on the very soil that they had on that fated night,
the breeze no longer tries to wash away our whispers, but seems to
whisper the words themselves in victory.
By: Babysista
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Crazysun ART. All rights reserved
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