This is me rage, raging.

One step at a time.

Around the block 

A half mile at a time.

Not going gently.

Don’t you see it?

Or is this not what you meant?

This struggle for survival.

You thought rage, raging would be more beautiful

Or at least done in private

And not me, a crippled girl dragging her leg down the street

Rage, raging.

Refusing to be constrained into a quiet room.

Pulling myself together to appear here

On this street 

Rage, raging,

Even though it gets harder

each day

In the dying of the light.