Anchor at the Shore

It is the naysayer behind the gate,
The watcher of ideas and words
Who denies the right to express,
The freedom to transgress.
Words that could have meaning,
Words that register street life,
Become phrases of casual employ.
You have to say child
When you wanted to say boy.
You have say them or they
When you wanted to say he.
You wanted to write a purple phrase
And you lost your reader in a haze.
No, they don’t censor anymore,
They just leave you anchored at the shore.
Don Knipschield
6/30/2009