Lampshade
Nightshade
Eyeshade.
Cool shade — shadow, hidden from the bright lights.
Shy,
no confidence.
Stripped by the sun in a solar system that it reigns.
Hide me,
or let me hide.
For I dare not come out of the shade.
Dare not?
How dare I?
When all I was taught was to be small.
Seen but not seen,
heard but no one hearing me cry
in the silence.
Forgotten in the underbelly
of a cold, cold world.
Dark and dank,
bereft of life’s promise —
of sunshine.
So I sit in the shade,
Jealously guarding my stares
to the other side.
Behind my shades,
hat on
mask on,
hidden.
Until the roar in my belly
was too loud for the birds.
They scattered from the canopy,
Startled.
There was a voice in me.
A loud voice,
an angry voice,
A voice that was stilled.
Throat chakra awake.
I roar into the darkness,
scaring the night creatures
under the rocks with me.
Day creatures long gone,
out in the sun with their shades on.
Let me roar.
Let me give a voice to my pain
A wish to my desire,
A name to my song
Kindling for my fire.
Burn, let it burn
Send smoke signals to the sky,
I came here to live
Didn’t born just to die.
After decades in the shade,
let me roar.
Let. Me. Roar.
© I. Trudie Palmer. Dedicated to Tasheka B.