As I crawled from my childhood battlefield, I remembered the voices of hope, like a permanent etching in my mind I was never good enough, strong enough, quiet enough every time I had “an idea”, it caused the stone figures to shudder The forces of conformity weighted on me like a hundred bricks The passcode was easy to remember; “do what we say, not what we do” At times I felt the aloneness, as if I was taking the last possible drop of water yet, through hope, I always believed another tear would quench me And then the test began, like a lightning storm in a forgotten dessert You were there to feel the bolt You may have scarred me, torn at my skin and even made me weep  But you will never change the fabric of me My power isn’t one of dominance, ego or dishonesty  It is the most frightening one of all As I touch the hearts of those who know me through kindness, you will never know love, peace or redemption  …