Perceptions

Why must people judge

based on outward perceptions?

How did we ever get the idea

that an appearance tells all?

 

While most may see

only a silent boy,

long dark curls hiding his face,

the few who get to know me

learn of the complex labyrinth

of my thoughts, both dark and light.

 

Others see only a reader,

dark brown eyes glued

to one book after another.

They laugh and jeer,

but never try to understand

the rush of imagination to be found

between crackling pages and dancing words.

 

Why do we judge on physical things?

Dumb blond, fiery redhead...

How can we be so arrogant

to assume that the color

of hair, eyes, or skin

tells what we need to know about them?

Why to we grasp for things that aren't there?

Author's Note

As always, feel free to critique.

Reviews

[Emily B]

I understand. My brown hair was invariably bent over a book. Those were happy times for me. My imagination set free from a world that was too heavy for my spirit. I love this. It speaks to me. The me that was, the me I've grown into.

[Phoenix Alleena]

Very true.

I agree with everything in this poem;
And When people judge like that--

it irks me. Really, it does. =/

you did an excellent job, and I hope that
one day people will regret treating others
this way.