DecPoWriMo 29

The stories we have told 
About the stories we tell 
Are wholly inadequate 
To the life as lived 

Or the stories suppressed 
By the supremacy of 
Unearned inherent worth 
From positions of privilege 

As the facade crumbles 
Into ordinary words 
Unlikely to be repeated 
Until placed in proper context 

May the landscape renew 
Through uninhibited cultivation 
Of gardens never conceived 
In any familiar minds 

But grown to fruition nonetheless