Midnight Garden Publishing's Poetry Spotlight

The winner of last month’s slam poetry night at The Hometown Olathe Family Farm was 18 year old Justice Ellsworth. With his piece entitled “Marks”, shown below, spoke powerfully about his experiences with chronic illness. He also presented two other moving pieces and indeed moved the crowd to tears. You can find him across all the social media platforms listed below, as well as more of his enticing creative works.

“Hello! My name is Justice Ellsworth, or “Poetic Justice” online. I’m 18, a senior in high school, and I’m going to college for mechanical engineering in the fall. I do robotics, photography, and of course, slam poetry. Poetry has been a lifeline for me since my sophomore year. Since then I’ve traveled around Kansas City getting to know the culture and the people, and loved every moment of it.”- Justice Ellsworth

“Mark”

Everyone and everything I’ve ever seen has told me that I can make my mark on the world

That I could rise above all emptiness and impotence and leave an imprint on my surroundings

That I can put pen to paper and forgo the erasure because the uniqueness of my work would be like a signature

Unique, like every mark in the world, it doesn’t matter because it isn’t mine

Like, I can do great things for this place if only the stars would align

But recently, I took a long glance at the mark I have made- it’s a timeline.

From the beginning of my life to this moment, full stop, there’s a hesitation

If we zoom in on a second, a fraction of the record, there’s an amendment to my declaration

After about 21 months, the ink becomes dark.

In that moment, the world left its mark on me, diagnosed with incurable disease

So the doctors said if we come to these fundraisers, sign their papers, leave our mark we could find a cure in ten years, but instead of signifying treatment, those 5k T-shirts are used for drying tears

Instead of a cure, I'm left with marks

On my arms and stomach, it’s track marks I would rather call battle scars, but battle scars implies I could fight back, so instead I'm a walking joke, a repeating comedic act

Like how my vials and syringes make them label me an addict

And the device around my waist makes me a bomber wreaking havoc

Yeah, Instead of a cure, I’ve had to make mental marks, acronyms, and numbers take up space in my brain that I'll never get back.

The A1Cs, the CGMs, the ratios of too many carbs to not enough insulin, the units to milliliters, and health progress moving in millimeters

And waking up at 2 am to just to stare down the reapers

I believe that no parent should ever have to see the mark on their child

Tied up in the hospital gowns because that sterile scent lingers

Or see what looks like pepper stains from the needles in their fingers

No parent should ever have to see the day where they can't pay hospital bills

Because the lifesaving medication is now taxed by new deals

Because insurance companies speak in slithers and deal in demonic duplicity

Because instead of saving lives, big pharma would rather distribute opioids illicitly

So to every child, every parent, every person with the mark

I pray you keep your eyes open instead of succumbing to the dark

I know that god or the universe or whatever you believe in

Has endless plans for you so long as you can keep believing

And I know it’s kinda cheesy, so please, keep listening

But the mark is not the end its just a new beginning

It’s gonna suck, i'm not gonna sugar coat it

Chronic illness is quite painful, and caused some of my worst moments

But make no mistake, it shouldn’t control you, you own it

And no matter what you think, in this bout, you are the formidable opponent.

Follow Poetic Justice here:

Facebook: /PoeticJustice

Instagram: @PoeticJusticeSpokenWord

Youtube: https://youtube.com/@poeticjusticespokenword?si=9ubda9meNDGLI1Ms

Email: [email protected]