Defiance.

My brothers are sitting on the couch and chair respectively.
They sit perfectly still, not moving a muscle. The players on the screen charge up and down the field,
Their huge bodies buffeting against one another. A clumsy, dangerous dance.
I watch disgusted as my family
Curls inward towards the television. They are like
The many petals of a dying flower
Slowly coming together.
Withering in the light of the screen.
A single ray of sunlight
Somehow not blocked by the curtains
Twines into the room and
About my face.
I smile and photosynthesize.
Making energy where there is none. Defying the TV.
I stand and drift out of the room
The announcers continue.
Two monotones, oblivious to my absence. So are my brothers.
Upstairs in my room I relax and stare out the window at the sky.
The sun smiles and winks at me knowingly.
Ah, brothers. They are all the same.
Downstairs they are stuffing themselves with
Unhealthy junk.
Watching guys in pads smash into each other with a ball
And call it a sport.
I disagree.
The sun has moved down
While I ponder. Now it shines
Dappled through the leaves of a tree.
Kissing my face with its rays
And congratulating me on my
Defiance.