En Pointe

The world cries

Foul over savageness

We all conceived

For generations by

Accepting the notions of

Failed leaders who

Accomplished nothing

Except to advance how we

Should be adversaries

Of each other

To justify segregating us

Behind the vagueness

Of imaginary borders

Calculated to delineate

We and them, but

My Soul is en pointe

And sustains me beyond

Ruinous overtures

Unveiling threads of

Love desperately suturing

Wounds of humanity