They asked how it was
I came to express those times.
I simply lived them then
now made them into rhyme.
I came to express those times.
I simply lived them then
now made them into rhyme.
Some say they are poetic
others think them but prose.
Me? I don't know nor care
part of me I refuse to close.
others think them but prose.
Me? I don't know nor care
part of me I refuse to close.
You see, I spent too many years
living to please those who I couldn't.
Many wanted more than I could give
to others I just wouldn't.
living to please those who I couldn't.
Many wanted more than I could give
to others I just wouldn't.
I have stories needing to be told
tales which help make me who I am.
After years and years of mockery
some treat the facts like Spam.
tales which help make me who I am.
After years and years of mockery
some treat the facts like Spam.
From when I was first able to feel
my skin curled and itched.
Something was always amiss
emotions rose to a fever pitch.
my skin curled and itched.
Something was always amiss
emotions rose to a fever pitch.
I've got to tell it. It has to come out
Much of what I was taught were lies.
Facing the realities was rough
often bringing tears to my eyes.
Much of what I was taught were lies.
Facing the realities was rough
often bringing tears to my eyes.
I rebelled and fought back
did every positive thing I could.
Jumped through all the hoops
least the ones I thought I should.
did every positive thing I could.
Jumped through all the hoops
least the ones I thought I should.
My rebellion made me stronger
opened my eyes to the darkness there.
I found people to be a mixed bag
some painful others tried to be fair.
opened my eyes to the darkness there.
I found people to be a mixed bag
some painful others tried to be fair.
The stage was already set for me
I stood right in the center of it.
Voice raised and arms up high
my rebellion wouldn't quit.
I stood right in the center of it.
Voice raised and arms up high
my rebellion wouldn't quit.
When they clapped and clapped
I refused to leave the mark
They yelled and yelled more
till it sounded like a bark.
I refused to leave the mark
They yelled and yelled more
till it sounded like a bark.
No, I would not give in
kept on with the show
Had to make sure my pain
was there for all to know.
kept on with the show
Had to make sure my pain
was there for all to know.
Never will forget a question
it haunts me still today.
"What is it you want from us"
are the words I hear them say.
it haunts me still today.
"What is it you want from us"
are the words I hear them say.
Like a rag doll hanging
the words wilt in my soul
Is it so hard for them to see
I don't think I'm being bold.
the words wilt in my soul
Is it so hard for them to see
I don't think I'm being bold.
I want the same as you
no more yet, no less.
Just treat me with respect
you know equality is the best.
no more yet, no less.
Just treat me with respect
you know equality is the best.
Del Cano 2007 August
2 comments:
I've been away from Spencer's Place for far too long. I visited today and read a few entries. I decided to share this, it was written awhile back but it seems to kind of fit in with a few entries. At least the one entitled "We Live in Different Worlds."
Blues, yellows, and greens
Hues fill our world
But no one notices,
Or so it seems.
So many live in shades
Of black and white
Creating their own assumptions
Of what's wrong and right.
But I know they've never seen
The colors of our souls.
They are two simple minded
To see the beautiful purplish, yellowish, bright green.
So many see only blacks
And grays and whites
And will contine with assumptions
Of what's wrong and right.
Now that I've shared, I also want to say that I don't care what anyone says, I know your soul is beautiful. And that is what people should be seeing when they look at others... their souls, their hearts, their minds. But, you know as well as I how some things just won't ever change. Yet, I keep hoping that statement is false and someday, people will realize that which they have been so ignorant of. However, it is they who are missing out on so much.
Your final verse makes my soul ache with knowledge of what you speak so eloguently in this poem. You are so on target, stories do need to be told.--Sheria
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