SHALL I – By ElizaBeth Coira

Shall I_ElizaBeth Coira_HomeGrownSojourner

Shall I tell the flower not to bloom
For fear of being picked

Shall I tell the dove not to soar
For fear of being caged

Shall I tell the grass not to grow
For fear of being cut

Shall I tell the tree not to stand
For fear of being chopped
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Shall I tell the bee not to buzz
The bear will eat his honey

Shall I tell the poet not to share
That’s no way to make money

Shall I tell the boy not to cry
Feelings won’t make him a man

Shall I tell the savage not to fish
It’s no longer part of policy plans
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Shall I tell the buffalo not to graze
He’s getting too big for our ways

Shall I tell the working, common slave
He is only worth a raise

Shall I tell the horse to only seek
Carrots, plasmas, stuff and things

Shall I tell the eyes to only see
What the masses preach as being
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Shall I tell the vine not to climb
It never seems to be her time

Shall I tell the sun not to shine
Clouds could be coming, dancing

Shall I tell the child not to hope
Because I don’t know how to cope

Shall I tell the heart not to love
For fear it might just break
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Shall I tell the moon not to beam
To cloak her glory in the dark

Shall I tell the girl not to be
There’s something wrong with being She

Shall I tell the storm not to pour
Flow through trees, rivers, dreams

Shall I tell the sea, you better not
Cause a stir, rock the boat