(W)hole, A Poem by Cassandra Robles

I can't find hope for myself 

I could have the looks, success, and wealth

however, those are things that are tangible, physically 

what's the value of them if can't give those things to those in need?

could I ever be a voice to those who can't speak?

if God calls me a goddess

maybe I am one of destruction 

a goddess who destroys herself in the process 

of mending nations 

giving all of my resources and knowledge 

to those who abuse power and use ignorance to their advantage 

or maybe I'll never save myself 

or find the light at the end of the road 

I'll become the light myself to guide others home 

maybe I'm never meant to be whole 

I may as well be a hole in the wall covered by a masterpiece 

with hidden gold and treasures inside of me

but what if those can never get past the fact that I'm still a hole? 

maybe I'll become a death hole,

the ones where you place your loved one's rested soul

either way I'm looked down upon, literally 

and for all of the pain I bring 

I'm far more than a definition

but only seen as a statistic or deathly suspicion.

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