I bet anything you hate me, but
How can you?
When there's no window into my mind.
I bet anything you'd condemn me,
So quickly!
Before you'd even touched my shoes.
Indeed red gloves engulf my hands
And when I try to dye them white
You gaze right past my guise,
But not your prejudices?
Even after I've served my time,
When years have weathered my paper skin
No respite. No relief.
You hide the slate-wiping cloths.
Sentenced by that fresh-faced youth who-
In that fracture of time,
Decide that-
That fracture of flesh,
Would make the perfect resting place-
For that fracture of metal,
That danced inticingly across his glistening palm.
Surely that is not irredeemable?
Not when demons whisper in your ear,
And babies scream in council flats.
When rocks and hard places are the least of your worries.
You think I don't see the glint of horror in your eyes,
The slightly raised pitch and ushering of children away.
Disapproving tuts,
Instant dismissal,
Sound familiar?
I'm a murderer, not a monster.
Can't you see?
Won't you see?
I know you hate me
But oh! Take a minute.
Step behind my eyes and see the world as me.
Just me.
YOU ARE READING
Polygon
PoetryA compilation of poems from the everyday; delivered by a short girl who just can't stand it. Enjoy. Or don't. Feel free to strike up a conversation if there's something you want to discuss. I update once a week so add to your library to keep updated...
