'Create A Way To Create' Poem by Forrest Barden

I would take your hands in mine,
But they cut my arms off at the shoulder
So every night would grow colder
As, all alone, i slowly grow older.
So i couldnt ever hold her
Or truly get to know her.
So i couldnt lift this boulder,
Rise up and become a soldier.
So i would be physically repulsive
As i am psychologically maimed.
So my emotions would become emulsions;
So i could never be the same.
So i wouldnt have a choice but to be tame.
So they could tell me my own name.
But they made the mistake of leaving my heart intact
Along with my eyes, ears, tongue, and brain...
Which, in conjunction, can create change.
I know this depiction must seem very strange,
But life dictates that with no arms and two legs,
A heart, eyes, ears, a tongue, and a brain.....
That you can still live to walk forwards
And tell others to do the same.
(see, its not insane)