No one ever questions why birds stand in a line,
On wires, on ledges, on edges
I don’t understand why there is a need to explain
The reason why my character cannot be squeezed into pages
Of a consolidated stereotype. No one ever
Wonders why cats have mood swings
And dogs love unconditionally, so why on earth
Is there a need for humans to wonder why our wings
Have to be tangible? Must we truly have feathers
Sewn onto our backs to be able to fly up high?
Is it not possible for our minds to work its magic
And seek a path that is secret. I spy
Questions that never truly end and I don’t see
Why I have to give a reason why
My mind records down moment after moment,
Why my heart cannot stop wishing to fly.
I have no answer as to why I throw tantrums
Because maybe the colours in my head
Are far too bright for me to contain, splashed inside,
Outside, everywhere until it’s a murky brown-hate
That cannot disappear and maybe it’s better to be brown
Than to be red and destructive. I don’t understand
Why some days, I can feel love and other days,
My heart is a stone that cannot comprehend
Anything and everything. I don’t have reasons,
There is only existence at this point and in the end,
Are we not all animals too, ruled by basic instinct?
Maybe I can overthink, maybe I can plan
But you know in the end, I shouldn’t need to
Give an answer because hey, I don’t need a reason
To fly, to climb, to go into metamorphosis,
To transform, to change, to live by my own season.
YOU ARE READING
Poems for the Sad and Weary
PoetryThis is my third book of poems and to be really honest, I'm thankful that I had even been able to finish the last two books. I feel like I'm a completely different person from the first book of poems I had started and that's okay with me. Maybe this...