Jacqueline collier

Written in 2025/JUL

The only way through hell is through hell,
there’s no salvation in escapism.
Trying to run this rat race
but I just got cut off by ablism,
and I’m trying to get help
but no one can listen
over the cacophonic chaos
that’s built in to this system.

You can’t choose what you’re dealt
but you can change your convictions,
and switch up the tapes
to stop playing the victim,
and turn struggle to strength,
give up knowledge for wisdom.
Perspective might hold its shape
but colour bleeds through the prism.

Then you see things in new lights,
what you thought was, well, isn’t.
A new set of eyes
to help temper the schism,
and see that public divide
is an elaborate prison
designed to keep us in line
and hold love at a distance.

They’ll beat you down when you try
to live by your rhythm,
but you don’t let them win;
weave silence into your vision.
‘Cause they can lull you to a halt
but you’ve got the key to ignition.
And they can’t stop your song
because it’s your composition.