I found my name chiseled in stone.
Etched, maybe centuries before my first breath.
With a height chart I never grew to,
A certificate I never earned, still waiting,
My name just written there,
Wasted raindrops filling the curved loops of my undeserved title,
Moss growing, waiting for me to claim my due.
I found my name carved in stone,
Jagged rock worn smooth when he’d come to rub his hands across it,
He dreamed of me.
Dreamed that someday I would dream for myself,
Until then, taking the time to write my name
Someplace it would remain
I found my name, along with every tear he cried for me,
Every dream he kept alive for me,
Every day he sacrificed that I might live.
I found my name
But I didn’t go looking for it.
The man I sold my birthright to,
He told me he’d found the strange stone.
A stele, an ancient grave marker
Except only the dream had died.
Copyright © 2016, Karen WrightFind me on Amazon, YouTube, Bloglovin, Instagram, Pinterest and Twitter.