Shield

Every human being 
has something of value,
Bonded with

An opaque screen that’s a couple inches
in front of our eyes
Dangling and gradually sinking 

resorted to an intricate string of false
and misleading claims,
But staying safe with

some sort of deflector shield
As if dropped
into some dead space in your brain

Your dreams
 
I’m so gifted at finding
Finding your dreams come true

Any time I count sheep
That’s the only time I wake

I put my hand on the stove
Blunt pain was everything I felt

It was all a dream

917

This where all the lights are broken down
               Into pieces.

This where the colour grey gives hope to a man.
This is where the concrete silver bleaches him white.
This where nothing is served cooked; but raw.
This where men can say what they want,
              it’s their cry, not the clash of metals.

This where fairness kills a man,
But allows the equity of fancying. I think I wondered
Here, but not now.
This where a glimpse of a night turns real.
This is where too sweet for adults to eat.
This where the thoughts are the most innocent
              But the dirtiest.

I was short, standing there.

This where the sun never drops,
Doesn’t matter if it’s shaped by us.
This where I built my signpost.
This is where I return.

This is where I saw a seal in the middle of green.
This where it swam, and danced.

Jin-Woo Ahn is a student at an international school in Seoul, where he explores the intersections of culture, identity, and language through poetry. Drawing inspiration from his multicultural upbringing, Jin-Woo’s work reflects a deep appreciation for the universal human experiences that connect us all. As an emerging poet, he is passionate about fostering community and collaboration within the literary world.