We aren’t the ones

Who placed ourselves

Inside the box

Judgment has done that for us

Solitude can be a balm

And soothe the spirit with quiet

When it is a choice

And a calm reflection

But that solitude can slip

Into isolation

A confinement away

Degrading us into the lesser

It is always simpler

To deal with things

Instead of hearts and minds

And society longs

To see everyone in their proper

Pigeonhole

But a full life

Is not lived

Inside that box

Pale and colorless

Instead it is lived in the messes

And the noise and motion

That leave a mark

In all of the moments

That proclaim

“I am here”

Not hiding amongst

The scenery:

A footnote to the story

That becomes a history

We are all threads

Woven into a rich image

If we stand fast

And refuse to be silenced – Caroline A. Slee