In other news, won the Frye Festival Award in the Youth Short Story Contest for First Place, so that's pretty groovy. Enjoy this little piece, have yourself a lovely day (weekend if you're on the day of posting), and see you tomorrow at eight AM for more!
The New Forgers by Mackinley Clevinger, April 28, 2016
So little do I think of when I step out my door
Save for what matters of business I’ve to attend for the day
Walking not in fear, nor in threat, and yet
To think that besides me walks another that may
Not see the sun as it rises the next day
Nor return to their family that they have left
Not walk as I, with peace within as it came from without
Nor meet such faces as I in their levity and love
From where has it come, this difference betwixt
That one set of boots may walk freely
And that other must yet be bound by chains thought gone
For chains that once housed bodies yet lie in minds
For the forgers are passed, and the chained are passed
And their sons are passed, and their daughters are passed
And surely we are not the forgers, as we are not the chained
Yet still I walk free and hear the rattling of chains beside me
And I do not know from whence they are come
For we are all born the quiet little angels
But do my eyes deceive me, for there are no wings today
Upon my shoulders I am barren of the divine
Upon my heart there lies a veil
Upon their legs there drag my chains
And upon their hearts, deserving, I cast no love
To suggest that the iron is deserved would set me to boil
Yet what have I done to free them of their burdens?
I, who walk beside my brother, enjoying these strangers’ gifts as he is looked down upon
I boil to be seen as unjust, but what claim have I to the honor?
My friends would say I am devout, a friend to all
But I have not walked hand-in-hand
I have not fought for my brethren, no
When the work called for the sledge, I rose not even the fist
Who am I to say I am not a forger of new chains
Chains of neglect alongside those fiends’ chains of division
True, I would not part ways with my brother beside me by choice
But to watch as we are torn apart? To stand idly by and bask in false praise?
Does that not make me a forger, and my brother chained anew?