A boy, a girl, a hero
Born or forgotten?
Cast into a mold or
Doomed to create their
Every move and desire,
Forcing their presence -
God-like and unholy,
Hellbent, or lurking
In the sunlight,
Jaded by their own
Kin, hated by others but
Loved, for who they
Make themselves out
Not to be, for fear of being
Ostracized by society,
Policed by constraints that
Quiver their soul, that
Reaps what it sows
Savoring the mold, though
Tossing it to the side
Unabashed, unafraid, unashamed
Veering to find themselves
Waiting for that
x-ray to come back saying
“You are who you are” not a
Zealot or a soldier but….
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