A Love Poem to Them All

I was writing on the beach, a love poem to them all.
But they took away the sea, blocked it up
With a wall. Then they took away my pen, so I wrote it
In the sand. But they dragged me off the beach
As they took away the sand. So I scratched it in a tree: I used my
Fingernails. But they tore my nails off (ouch!) so instead
I used a rock. But they took away the rock, the
Tree, my hands. So I carried on        inland—used my toes
In the ground
                To write
                        A crop
                Circle
        Poem!
But they took away my shoes,
                                My feet,
                The ground. So it was natural for me
To say the poem out loud. So it was natural for them
        To stitch up my mouth. So I hummed
                                                The poem instead.
I made it
                        Musical! But they only
                                Closed my throat, and I now breath
                Through a tube.

        But I still
                Have my poem. A love poem to them all.                Though

                        With my mouth
                                Now closed, I cannot hope to smile it.
                        And they beat and shake and shock me
                Trying
                                        To find it.
                                                But little
Do they know
That it’s locked inside my head.        And while they try
                                                        To rub it out

It screams in there for them instead.