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Poems of Outrage |
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Where has my life taken me in all my short years? Better yet, where is it taking me? What worth is the monotony of day to day? What worth is an individual mind in a uniform reality? Where we're all "unique", right? I find myself almost mature, Though never really mature. You see, If boredom equals maturity, I want no part of it. If uniformity equals this adult, business-minded reality I have to ask myself, What do I really want? Do I want to be the so-called "normal" That doesn't exist, Never did exist, you see Never WILL exist Humanity is much too diverse to ever have a word pasted on it as "normal" On the inside, at least. On the outside, were all supposed to be cordial and polite and proper "professional" plastic, just plain fucking inhuman, Damnit. Wearing these confining, "professional" clothes To make a "good impression" Paraded in front of important and rich men Lying about what a fucking genius I am. Never say the word "normal" to my face again. I consider it a swear word. A blasphemy. And "professional" And "mature" I want no part of it If I have to live and look a lie, ill quit. If only I could mirror my inner self through my face, through my attire Through my attitude towards life Without these fucking parental restraints Without bothering about "paying for privileges" Doing what to me feels right Speaking my mind, God forbid. Liking what I like, disliking what I don't And thinking on my own |
Page 3 I may not ACT like it But it's true I'm not fucking 12 I'm not desperate either Like if you leave me alone in a room with a male of the same species I'm not going to rip his clothes off and fuck him, for Christ's sake. This doesn't mean I'm going to be a nun either. I won't be irresponsible. I HAVE learned my lesson. I don't need to be "spanked". Trust me, I have learned my lesson. And you don't have to tell me, I already know Ill never make it in the real world with "this attitude" To the Beast of Oppression Stirring on the inside Restless, surging Impatience, frustration Annoyance, anger I wish I had a gun So I could point it to this monster's Ugly head And just smile as I pull the trigger. Relief, release Is all I beg for Freedom, flight Is all I pray for Life, love Is all I need But all I ask of you Is to let Me Be. |
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