I’ve been told many times
a reputation is built
but in its creation lies
a mixture of risk and guilt.
A tower does not arise
in a day, in a week, but over a span
of time as it grows in size
constructed with helping hands
But then there are those voices
the ones you, or they, think matter
closely analyzing your choices
as you climb or trip the social ladder
Your image, a dimension of you
can freeze in the minds of the ignorant
a motion picture paused untrue
YOU are not important
If I was not outspoken
and my mouth were just decoration
then my life would be unbroken
and without desolation
It is not so, my existence
although my lips might taste of salt
the splinters of my resistance
I proudly declare my own fault
So maybe my name will perk ears
and maybe I’ll remain a myth
At least it wont drown in the fears
society floods us with
Even those that truly think
they know the angles of you
be an island if they sink
with the captain and the crew
Words can illustrate, depict, portray
a mighty weapon of choice
does it matter what they say
or will you pillow out the noise?
Dolores Nabokov, 17, Australia
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