The kind that you can use to grow,
To learn to make different mistakes,
Better mistakes, another time.
Gather the tears you shed on seeing
A world round you where you don't belong;
Sweat borne of efforts wasted on trying
To make it better; Spit off a tongue
Oft bitten when you dared not speak;
Wax from ears set to ringing
By the roaring clamor of the age; And blood
Felt in a heart that longs for a better place.
Gather them in fingers that itch to do
A new thing, and draw a door upon the wall,
And go through it, knowing not where it will lead,
And pull it shut behind you.
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