For Just This Once

Maybe,
For just this once,
The world isn’t
About you.

Maybe,
For just this once,
The rain isn’t
About water;
The earth
Not about
The existent,
But the extinct.

Maybe,
For just this once,
The books aren’t
About the stories;
The words
Not about
The imagined,
But the unimaginable.

Maybe,
For just this once,
The cages aren’t
About holding back;
The penalties
Not about
The revealed,
But the concealed.

Maybe,
For just this once,
The shame isn’t
About naked truths;
The frustration
Not about
The unsaid,
But its futility.

Maybe,
For just this once,
The shell isn’t
Intact.

– October 7th, 2015
© Sana Rose 2015

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