Wrong Place

Temporarily encamped
in enemy territory,
a confidante, observer,
practicing external camouflage –
a dangerous game.

Am witness to hatred –
the deep-seated, ‘us’ vs ‘them’
mentality that divides –
vulnerability on high –
I am clearly ‘other’ –

a tourist trapped,
powerless to affect change,
in need of escape.

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

14 thoughts on “Wrong Place”

      1. Yes, integrity demands not stooping, and that’s a tough call given the intensity of feeling, I always feel great that I didn’t cave in, but grieved that I didn’t launch a strike.

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  1. caught in the wrong place at the worst of times….that is what your poem says to me. brings back memories of me stranded in an airport after a life changing world event. we can’t hide the colour of our skin like we can our feelings or do people even not try to anymore. hate is such an ugly colour.

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