In the realm where words collide,
A conversation, a power divide.
“Speaking to me is a privilege!” they decree,
Stripping away privileges, can’t you see?

But come, child, take a step with me,
Into the abyss, where courage sets us free.
Look at all you’ve done, your journey unfurled,
Does disappointment lurk? “Pettumus?” it’s hurled.

Hmph, your brain still works, it’s true,
Yet the scars within, they paint their hue.
You’re damaged, that much is clear,
But strength emerges, even through tears.

For in this tapestry of dominance and plight,
We navigate through darkness, seeking light.
The voice of authority tries to impede,
Yet we march forward, fulfilling our need.

Speaking to you is a privilege, indeed,
For your spirit soars, refusing to concede.
No matter the doubts, the wounds you bear,
You’re resilient, a soul with stories to share.

So let the power dynamics fade away,
Embrace the invitation, seize the day.
In your damaged heart, a flame still burns,
For in vulnerability, strength quietly returns.

Through the ebb and flow of this poetic dance,
We rise above, reclaiming our stance.
The privilege lies not in their hollow decree,
But in the courage to be authentically free.