I speak to myself
From the inside
Out
"When we leave the field," my spirit speaks
"When Ileave this field," my mind corrects it
"When?"
That's all my heart can manage to say
I work tending to souls not unlike mine
At least not to me
Given labels like developmentally challenged,
disabled, and of course,
the mentally retarded
All of which make me twinge and wince like I'm watching these lovely people
Stand before a firing squad of stigmas
The truth is, dear ones
I love my job
The core of it
My love to these wonderful people
But the rest
The corporate ladder
The insensitive staff
All of it
My heart breaks
Under the drowning weight of these countless waves of insanity
Why must I be everything
But who I truly am?
Why must I give up what I love
For what is considered practical
When I leave this field
I will finally be free.
when we leave the field
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Re: when we leave the field
The imprisonment of a job you despair yet you cannot leave because of the way society works. The pain and confusion the speaker feels radiates off the screen. When I clicked on the poem, the title led me to believe it was about a literal field in nature, and those last two lines, to me, is an oxymoronic play on that image. Much enjoyed!
"The act of writing is an act of optimism. You would not take the trouble to do it if you felt it didn't matter." ~Edward Albee
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Re: when we leave the field
A heartfelt poem that speaks for those who can't - and quite eloquently. Cheers TFW! - Dan
And unasked perhaps: but who will speak for us?
And unasked perhaps: but who will speak for us?
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Re: when we leave the field
my mother is an educator and works with developmentally disabled children. It is heartbreaking because you can only do so much to improve their lives and then you can't go any further. and yet, you want to do more but they wont give them the resources.
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Re: when we leave the field
I work in the helping profession so I can relate to the poem. It's tough work, mentally taxing but the rewards are intangible. Some have an affinity for the underdog, the voiceless, the powerless, so much thanks to you for helping, the compassion you display each day.
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Re: when we leave the field
This is a great poem which clearly displays your sensitivity and will to help others even in the face of stigma and bottom-line corporate logic. When I read the title of the poem I thought of a battlefield, and I believe that's an accurate metaphor for the predicament you're in. I send you many good thoughts and hugs. Keep it up.
Bear
Bear
"I cry out for magic/I feel it dancing in the light/It was cold/Lost my hold/To the shadows of the night" (Ronnie James Dio)
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Re: when we leave the field
Nice write and we'll deserving of a spotlight. Dedication is hard to maintain when the task seems sometimes thankless. Poignant write and quite thought provoking. Well done!