Disbelief
Raw edges of charcoal
Streak across the page
Your face is angled
Toward yet another judge
Your eyes are guarded
Against the accusation
That you aren't real
That your tragedy is nil
But they are wrong—
Relax your stance
Lower your sword
You are among friends.
Allow our minds to dwell…
Allow our words to tell…
Allow our lead to stroke…
Allow our pens to strike
The doubter's disbelief