Joy, enjoyment, where does it come from
Is it from external forces, what we see and do
Is it from within, from your soul, from you
Or is it wholly created from whatever you do
When I look up to the sky, see the sun or the stars
I feel small, like I’m all the way from Mars
I am just a piece of dirt, floating in the air
Feeling trapped, feeling hollow vulnerable and bare
Do I allow this world to crush my joyous soul
Or can I stand up and fight and play my role
In a bid for freedom and justice to us all
Maybe I’m not so small, and am tall after all
Write poetry? Submit your poem to Poetry Catalog