Poet at large
speaking to the downtrodden
I am your ally
as I am trodden on every down
and trying
to make some semblance of things

Do you have question marks hanging
like a quivering voice in a quiet room?
Though my voice is shaky
the earth should tremble
at the triumph song we'll sing

Hail the victor
turn the corner
and gain on the last lap
I will run it with you
Come
give me your limbs