Listen
A short poem out of frustration
These feelings will never fully subside.
You have to prove where your from. Do you know the exact dialect of your people? Are you familiar with the struggles of your neighbors?
You have not suffered enough to fully understand me, they say.
A constant comparison among each other.
A challenge, really, a test of where you stand and how much you can withstand.
How far are you willing to take things?
Or do you want to sit back because you’re one of the weak ones who bent easily.
A constant search for your mirror.
Then you’re the crazy one when you get lost in the forest of your thoughts. With no one able to understand how deep your thoughts have gone. How much you have yet to understand but how much more deeply you feel them.
Unable to put them pen to paper but when spoken makes your heart spike.
An unnerving battle that has pitty as its pet.
How are you able to challenge yourself when you can’t get past the first step?
When things keep tackling you before you hold the ball.
When you pry yourself open and nothing but crows feast. Searching for something that challenges your will.
When learning from the past is how we move forward, what happens when you can’t look back?
What happens when everything in you tells you it’s too much?
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Or when you can’t participate in this democracy?
What would you tell someone like me?
Sit back and sit down, no, because we can’t.
The burden to know and move forward with your story, even with a small piece of the puzzle.
Unwilling and unmoving, the longer I sit, the more I sink so the harder I run.
The harder I fall.
Blinded by my selfish feelings, with my tears clouded.
Unable to see the tears of my peers.
Walking into a rotted deck, never satisfied, changing every nail and board.
Grind, polish, sand, paint, finish.
A never-ending career.
But please tell me what you think?
Tell me what you think I should do.
My patience runs dry, and my words hurt your ignorance.
Ignorance in our own respect spans a mountain range.
You don’t have the knowledge to teach me, and I don’t have the patience to listen.
It hurts the longer it goes on.
Envy and hate, I wish you could listen.
