They are a secret society,
A loud parade,
A marching band,
A cacophony
A band of drummers practicing downstairs
They
Have
It
And outside
alone
no noise canceling headphones to mute them
the vibration of their voices and drums fills my body
and I shake, unwilling, unyielding
yearning to be free
Never
Have
I
Craved
Freedom
More
Just around the corner
their whispers are a megaphone
of reminders, constantly announcing:
They
Have
It
I
Have
Not
Although most days
I
Want
Not
I am still outside,
surrounded, drenched,
shaking
without.
