IdentityA Poem by H. A. M.Not fitting in with your own and trying to.
Identity
My speech is not so complex
or vibrant
But still…
Words get lobotomized.
Understood yes…
But I can’t express my self.
So now I feel castrated.
In actions
The right thing to do
Is the wrong thing to do.
When rational screams a muted,
muffled
protest.
I pretend not to hear
and do something… tactless.
In likes and dislikes
I down play my ‘what I likes’
in favor of ‘what you like’.
I know my taste is not your favorite.
Also not popular with the crowd held at bay.
Thoughts that race a mile a minute
Having seizure like ideas
because they come like that.
Still I keep them in the
Shallow end
because that’s what’s expected
from the community pool.
Drown the impossible dreams
with the good ideas
like unwanted kids
so I can have friends.
Abortion is the term for it.
Same uniform and still
I don’t fit in.
Because
Opposites don’t attract
they just cling to each other.
In short….
Why do I have to lie to you…
to be black?
No one came to my house and handed me a script
and said…
“Hurry up and get to wardrobe!
So you can be fitted
with the style of the day
that lasts for a minute.”
No one handed me a script and said…
“Hurry up!”
“Read on the way.
Here’s the role your gonna play.”
Hmmmm….
Department Store Suspect.
I played that yesterday.
Afraid to deviate from your norm
I adjust to the insane.
And pretend to like simple things.
Yet the obvious outcast
Can still be the next trail blazer.
Cut up sentences
with new words
illegal in this house.
Method of thought stays in the red
Stays negative.
Always frustrated.
I wonder…
If comedians really entertain
…or preach to me how I’m supposed to be.
Do doves care to be eagles?
Do dolphins dream to be whales?
It’s an assumption
(I think…)
something smaller would want to be
something bigger.
My key to happiness seems to be
Just accepting me
and others
as is.
While you get bent out of shape
when someone doesn’t look
or
act like your normal, regular
view of your world..
If your truth gets shaken
down to cracked foundations
then…
maybe…
it’s…
not real truth
or
you need to reassess.
So…
Why do I have to lie to you…
to be me?
…I thought we were better than that.
© 2008 H. A. M.Author's Note
Featured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
809 Views
26 Reviews Added on February 7, 2008 AuthorH. A. M.St.Louis, MOAbout"I hope you live to be one hundred years old and me a hundred minus a day so I won't know good people like you passed away." DJ Phylosophy. Hey YOU! Sorry for the absence. I'm having conection pro.. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|