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