I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
Month: May 2020
I’m waiting patiently
for gravity to resume
its cosmic force,
where we are all
pulled together
without a sense of
fear or remorse.
I’m patiently waiting
for when distance is
not a barrier
and time can, again,
be shared, or when
over here
is as possible
as being over there.
05/28/2020 j.g.l.
Posted on May 27, 2020 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
George Floyd.
If you don’t know the name, you are not paying attention.
If you are not outraged you are not paying attention.
If you can’t feel the pain, you are not human.
If you don’t see the injustice, you have no hope.
I thought things were changing, but I can see how little they have.
Racism continues to go unchecked, but it is not unnoticed.
It is very black and white.
I’m sickened.
I am sorry.
I can’t say I am speechless, but I cannot find the words.
This was not in my country, but it is my world.
Posted on May 26, 2020 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
It does not stop, nor
is it ever the same.
We grow, we age,
we come into ourselves.
Time.
As it takes,
we are given;
each day
a gift.
05/26/2020 j.g.l.
