Elana J.

Shakedown Fever

Curiosity seeps through my veins,
banging on the prison walls of my lids,
pleading them to lift and reveal the light;
but the cries are swept away into the silence
as fear shuns the eccentricity.  

A quick glance over the shoulder causes me to take pity
on my guitar, softly seeking refuge in the corner;
I pick it up as my bones un-scatter at the sight of truth.
This beat within my soul grows louder
as my fingers take the reigns, guiding to the unknown.
I can’t seem to release my words;
years gone by and the lyrics just sit
gathering dust like an old box of photographs placed on a shelf,
long-forgotten memories being held hostage by the chores of time.

I seem to have caught this infectious disease:
My mind no longer paints the colors of the world in black and white;
instead it allows this shakedown fever
to slowly take hold of my thoughts,
lifting my lids to the colors of reality.

These words are for you,
the helpless child confined from existence:
don’t let your faith slip away
for my song will ring in the ears of those who have room
in their minds for more than conformity,
it will attend to their cries,
raise them from the depths of hypocrisy;
and then will the words truly flow.




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Copyright 2002-2006 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2006 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.