Occupy Poetry

Moths to a Flame

BY Jalyssa Elliott

Pulled like a moth to the flame. A glowing beacon of release and restitution. I speak because that light doesn’t exist without my voice. It would cease to burn without OUR voices. So I run full force. I barrel on toward that piece of home. The obstacles are merely more than foothills against the promise of freedom. I join hands with new brothers and sisters flying toward the same light. We are united in a single pursuit. For happiness. For equality. For unity. For understanding. The road lies ahead covered in rhetoric; flaccid truths watered down with big holes of deceit. And for decades we fall victim to the potholes we are ever warned about. Blaming ourselves, believing it was us who took that fateful wrong turn. Never questioning if our mistakes were truly our own because surely these new leaders of today have got it figured out by now?

A nation of “sheeple” is one I cannot be a part of. However, perhaps if I keep reaching, pulling for that light, could I be one of the shepherds? Some sheep just need guidance right? Then let that light be a north star to follow. Let that beacon light the way toward a brighter place. In the end, every sheep has the potential to reach and morph into something greater. Let the movement be contagious. Let that light lead us home. Into the future.

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