Swine were the companions of the prodigal,
swine were the misfits
who walked with them,
swine were all that brewed
him to follow that path,
and swine was I,
a mere menace,
a liability that cursed
all those that dreamed to walk,
for I’d always believed
in wings that could soar fiercer
than the wind
and could burn brighter than winter.
Swine was just an expression,
a movement that diverged those that hoped,
and those that moved beyond,
an intricacy
that dispersed expectations
and worked for reasons that didn’t need people
to accept,
and people to believe.
And so, when he came out,
he became a divergent,
one that didn’t need faces to depend upon
and places that he belonged in,
one that had finally turned sane
and true.
And I was part of the reality
that pulled those saviors
back into the deterrent crowd,
and mark him
as another one
of those Swines.
·poetry