To be ghosts
Haunt the bad behaviors out of my descendants
Talk with ancestors about did I do enough
This has much to do with us not getting to
Grow old to give breaths to the flowers
Become dirt for others to be grounded to live
Or dust to take up space
I want you to grow old
Feel grays be the silvering lining of being
Alive long enough
Dying of old age is an act of protest
When life is taken by this oppressive system
May you not be taken for granted
May you be granted old age
May you give your last breath as you would like to live
This piece is published as part of Love Now Media’s Poet’s Press. Poets have been trusted voices for generations, giving impassioned contextual voice to critical issues of the times. As storytellers, their words often help society to further process and digest the news providing empathetic nuance to reporting done by journalists. The Poet’s Press contributors deliver views of life through a uniquely transparent lens while exploring critical issues connected to wellness, equity and justice.
