Independence for the Rightly Disobedient


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Blea tarn in the English Lake District. A calm, early morning sunrise including a couple of swans

Elizabeth Tornincasa, Writer


You are not the same. 

You are not you. 


You are the water in the tarn 

Still with an uneasy rocking. 


I was taught not to hate. 

I was taught to obey. 


I will obey while the tarn is still 

But when the drought comes trust I will be gone. 


For I am intolerant of the uneasy presence 

But I can walk through rocky canyons. 


So, while the silky water fills my lungs  

I will stay silent. 


But when the raging wave’s part  

And the path is cleared 


I know the way 

But it is not yours.