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Our Fortress, Our Home: a Poem

How we’ve given our home up
to strangers so they’re not out in the cold.
To only find these people walk all over
your intimate feelings,
grind you down to dust,
stomp on your beliefs
with iron-tipped boots,
and leave you out in the frozen
wasteland with no friendly gesture,
you’re just an extra.
Tried hard to care for those
who’ve no friends,
have no homes, no one else
defended these lost souls.
Only to discover whispers of an affair
we’re having a menage a trois,
an affair, how ridiculous!
Just trying to do the right thing
no matter what other people believe,
stinking from their own defiled imaginations.
We gave everything we had,
we shared all in half, but
we were trampled and dragged
like dead carcasses to our graves.
Those listless, maddened, homeless spirits
even called us retarded cause we believe
in a universe with one God.
Told we owned too much,
ate too good, saw too many doctors
cause that’s the way we stood.
So we lain upon the altar,
let ourselves be slaughtered,
but now, we realize our home’s a shelter,
a fortress against all
that does not matter or does
matter for there are words we cherish.
We’ve always believed Elijah
listens in and decides if we’ve
earned a place with Him.
Given all we can give
with no name to fame
for that is a higher place in  heaven,
but now we hold that bar across
the tall gates that shield us
from our common enemies,
those who are willing to
kill us with their cold laughter,
turn their backs to what we have held
with such certainly.
Cover our heads with Samson’s hair so
we gather strength
to reclaim another dawning day.
There is no hip, hip, hooray.

About Lisa Tremback

I started writing in Elementary school and was published in school and local newspapers. I graduated from Columbia College in Chicago and studied under the poet, Bill Knox. I have been published at Colorado State University's underground newspaper. I enjoy writing almost every day and love to write about my relationship with G-d.

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