To The System
I sit in a system that has far out-broken right from wrong, has long out-lasted its last facelift and has done little to sustain its swinging back door. My own body has been over-stimulated by this system, loudness echoes each corner of these walls.
But does the system listen to the voices that vibrate along the bricks. Hoping ears become penetrated by whispers—do you care?
I am a mother of four children lost in a system. My mother was one of seven children all lost in a system. I’ve heard the stories about systems being enveloped by smaller systems and those systems became so big they forgot their own mission statement.
I know when I’m not forced to be within this system. I have my own system. It’s my own life system. I have a comfy couch I like to watch TV on. It longs to become used. Themes, pictures, within my life that remind me of the ones in my life that had no choice but to be forced into a system. When does the system give up? Wrong doing stand up and fight for what’s right? Who gives power to me and to women in position that abuse it? Is there a secret system we don’t dare to look at? We are a system sick with secrets once we choose to stand and voice those secrets; then does the system change? I know I’m stuck in a system that does not work. I sit in a system that is fear, I stood up last night and howled loudly, fear springing forward, knocking it over with the truth, hatred churning in the bellies of so many broken women.
Art: Love Me as I Am, MG