by Gina Regan
She doesn’t know how to make the wretched world right,
troubled by the turmoil on every map,
Earth’s canvas checkered with chaos.
She wants to squeeze her sad eyes shut,
Allowing no sliver of bright light to penetrate her calm, dark insides,
Her idyllic island amidst the devastation.
Instead she works and she claws and she fights
to return some semblance of balance, to counteract despair with light.
She doesn’t shirk from the swollen world
engorged with pride and hate and disdain.
She gently prods the earth, nudging and poking until it sighs in resignation,
a puncture in its vile armor finally visible.
She is a hero working to slip sanity and strength into the craven world’s heart,
Putting others’ future before her present,
Offering her bright soul to make the barren earth bearable,