VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Davette Stout

The Upgrade

As I sit here on the lot

I realize no one notices me

My color has oxidized

My body has wrinkles

And dents

My lights have lost their sparkle

My bumper is sagging.

I show age

But not knowledge or wisdom.

No one sees or cares

What I have seen

Where I have been

They only see the

Wrinkled body

The dents

The greying from oxidation.

They want something newer

With color

A perfect body

And lights

That sparkle blue in the night

And no mileage.

They only want an upgrade

I WILL RISE

JUST AS THE PHOENIX ROSE

FROM THE ASHES

THAT MY DEMONS

CREATED WHILE TRYING TO BURN MY SOUL.

THEY WILL NOT SCORCH

ALL THAT I AM

NOR WHAT I BECOME

IN THIS HELLISH WORLD

OF HATRED AND ANGER.

I WILL SURVIVE

Up high in the trees, there is a house

But why so far up in the sky?

Is it so the owners can look down on us?

Maybe use an eagle eye to see?

Are they afraid of what will happen?

Will they fall prey to what lies below?

It can’t be seen well, that house in the trees

Only by the habitants, the secret is revealed.

The bird leaves the nest for a short while

To scope out the landscape that lays below

To restock life’s necessities and to prepare

For what will happen on the ground beneath.

The bird flies higher and higher

With its nose so raised up

To breathe in a deep breath

And to face society, not always at it’s best.

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