I wrote this poem a long time ago. Going through my archives, it called to me and I decided to share. I hope it finds you well.
O girl, come over here.
Yes, you looking at me.
Are you listening to what I’m saying?
Come, show me your real face.
I want to unveil your hidden passion
And read the story behind your wildness.
Why are your eyes so sad?
They point accusing fingers and use it everytime.
Those words, four and five letters they are.
Or is your skin they made you believe is dull?
Why don’t you tell me about it.
O boy, come right here.
Show me your abs and muscles.
Tell me why you work so hard.
Who do you wish to impress?
A girl who’s loving another
Or the society that do not care?
Maybe it’s the ones you call your friends?
Those wasted lads constantly reminding you
How out of place your eyes are
And how you aren’t good enough for that job.
Come, tell me why you do what you do.
Hey, stranger.
Come sit by my side.
Look me in the eyes and answer my questions.
Why do you taunt that little girl?
Why do you call that boy names?
I fail to see the perfection in you.
Maybe if you were, it’d be easier to understand
Why you stalk and abuse and shame.
That neighbour jumped over because of you.
Yes, you stranger staring at me.
Because of filth that comes from your mouth.
I began writing this piece with the intention of showing or should I say addressing the things we call flaws and how they are parts that make us whole, but it went on its own and I decided to let it. Maybe I’ll do it later on a separate post.
For someone who grew up in a perfect neighbourhood, had the perfect parents, went to the perfect school and got the perfect grades, they may not really understand. Have you ever walked down the street lost in your thoughts till someone calls your name and says something not very nice, you turn and everyone around laughs? I’m not sure I need to explain what that does to a person, especially when it happens over and over. They begin to slowly lose themselves, believing that those things are actually true and when that happens, they begin to live that life of pleasing the others. In some cases, they may try to change that part of them into what they believe is more acceptable, which usually ends up disastrous.
Ask yourself this question. How many times have I done that to a person? It may not necessarily be you saying mean things directly, or laughing at their inappropriateness. When you stare and rudely ask questions about a part of the body, persisting even when it’s obvious the person doesn’t want to answer, and in some cases, even remember. That can finish up a mind already on its way to decay. How many minds do we contribute on destroying on the daily without even realising it, you and I?