I am restless, foolish,
wasteful of time,
believing in rhyme, I
love to be me, even though
I DO see, the lives I've been shown,
I know I have grown...but...

I want to be free,
to not worry about me, to
write and to think,
to be my own link, to
stay in my shell, because
reality's hell, I want...

("I want" are the words
that cut me like swords,
from the mouths of my girls,
scudding personalities curl
into battle position,
no prisoners taken.)

I want to set free,
the wonder of me, I'm
afraid when I die,
when I've eaten my pie,
and wasted my life,
I will not be safe, I want...

("I want", in the now,
a ridiculous vow,
is all that is heard
from mouths of the world,
no future seen here,
I'm tired this year.)

I can't be sent free,
have to banish the me,
in entirety, 'cause
I am really not my,
though the "me" isn't free,
I now am the we.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 11/25/02