Stairs

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 30, 2018

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Submitted: August 30, 2018

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Elevator?

Stairs?
Either the stairs, or the elevator?


We live in a society that constricts the variety to 1 choice.
Always the elevator, never the stairs,
because we don't dare to put more effort than the bare minimum.
Let me reference that only when time is of the essence do we want the stairs.
No one wants stairs, ever.  


However, I have forever wanted stairs.
Only when you have never had stairs do you desire the fire in your legs from going up them.
Desire the tempo change in heart rate because the change proves you still have one.
Desire increased circulation to warm you from the coldness of the wealthy’s eyes.


I just want to go upward.  
Because I'm tired of there being no upward movement.
Tired of living on first floor with no elevator door of privilege to take me higher.


Wanted my own bumpy slide in my home ever since I was a child.
Always thought my mother was wild for letting no one defile the sanctity of her palace.
Now I know the reason she considered it treason for my friends to come over,

is because our kingdom is not like theirs.
Theirs are castles with multiple levels that can be reached by the elevators of their birthright.


So I'm here in college to design a stair blueprint to build some stairs for my home,

before my mother climbs the stairs to heaven.
Want her to get a view from the stairs of my education.

Not just a glimpse of them from heaven’s elevation.


Without help my ascent has become staggered.

I’m like baby with no proper guidance since I have no rich alliance to answer questions to,

about the science of climbing even the first step of the staircase.
Those with “hard work” cliches are still at the top, telling me to bring my worries to a stop.


They're telling me it's as easy as taking it 1 step at a time.
But they don't realize that one step for them is 1,000 steps for me.

Still yet 1000 steps for me is just 1 step for all people like me.


Where's the Duke math in that.
Where's the trigonometric function that’s meant to be conjunction to an easy fix for my problem just like everyone else’s.
It's like their statement of how it's an equal playing field.
The limit to that statement as it approaches all the hardships we have is that it never existed.


But the truth to my life is manifesting, so open your eyes.
The loud noise you hear is me constructing, so open your ears.
The sensation of my rise is appearing, so make sure you feel it.


You all at the top have yet to experience the fullness of my existence that God has intended.
Just blink a few more times.
You'll get it when you're looking up at this trailer-born Black boy sitting at the top of the stairs.
Ready for a bumpy slide of his own.


© Copyright 2018 kes96. All rights reserved.

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