carpenters who own the best of tools, capable
of craftsmanship so fine it belongs in castles, the stuff of kings!
yet can't find a lousy job to feed their families...
bright minds locked within useless bodies, unable to express
thoughts so fiercely beautiful only angels can understand them...
those who, through no fault of their own,
carry adult-sized burdens on child-sized backs but
are scolded when they've forgotten how to play...
a book of all the things we say we want,
that sits neglected on a shelf,
because we're doing things we don't...
seeing eyes accompanied by appalling inability
to absorb the grandness all around them...
passionate hearts contained within tiny. sparkling boxes,
cobwebbed with the waiting,
still hoping to be unwrapped.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2012
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