I had the idea for this poem while doodling on a newspaper...and it turned out a lot better than I expected!
I didn't really realize it until just now as I was typing it up, but I think this poem is s little about pride, and I guess that fits, because it's Pride Month!! Sooo happy Pride to all you LGBTQIA+ peeps out there, from one of your own!!
Lots of love,
-smo
~~~~
Sometimes I feel
Like all I am doing in this life
Is colouring.
Black letters,
Put down on the paper before I was even thought up,
Coloured on by centuries of people like me.
Each person alive
Must fit into the lines of their word
So as not to be seen
Or judged.
We are given our word,
A box, forcing us into conformity,
When we are born
Along with a black pen,
To match the letters.
And the word we are given
Does not always fit
With the world that we want
For ourselves.
Jock.
Girl.
Bookworm.
Perfect.
They teach us at a young age
To colour inside the lines
But then we grow up, and they tell us,
"Think outside the box."
The truth is
All they really want
Is for us to be mindless
Powerless to control
Our own lives.
And so they make sure
That we colour in the lines
Black pen
On black letters
Only to be seen
If we make a mistake.
Then,
And only then,
Will we be visible.
They will ridicule us
For being imperfect.
Put us down
For being ourselves.
All that we do in this life
Is colour.
Invisible to all but ourselves,
We colour.
Wanting nothing
But to be seen
Yet doing nothing
That they will see,
We colour.
YOU ARE READING
Organized Chaos - These are My Thoughts
PoesíaNo, These are not poems. So flimsy a thing as can be called a few words on a page. These are thoughts. Paper thoughts, broken and scattered and gone like the wind. Iron anvil thoughts, never leaving though it is all I can ever ask of them. Invisible...
