by C. F. Hatten

Although many have tried
You canít steal an idea or thought
Especially in its embryo form
When it labors the conception of growth

But once it has shown its face
And birthed the narrow canal
The warmth of its breath is celestial

Once it has spread its fingers
Around the ravished arms of earth
Its mother becomes faceless

Once it touches the world and
Opens its virgin eyes
Its flight is infinite
And it is susceptible to light

But now
Like the strokes of blue butterflies
It has beauty and personality
With lift to carry its weight
Where it will clinch tight its bloody fist
And cry out like a rebel

Rebel by C. F. Hatten

© Copyright 2001. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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