By Andrew R. Duckworth
We’re made of caked-on layers,
Hardened by time and persistence.
They opened their mouth,
Filth flamed out,
But it fed us power,
Gave us sustenance.
Over time, we had to ask
If that was all they had to give,
Numb to slung slurs
And words of war
Meant to cut and bleed
Our power dry,
Those caked-on layers
Our armor,
A character developed
From turning the other cheek.
Poetry and Essays of Andrew Ryan Duckworth 