Seeing Red.

  We wake up every morning because they tell us to.

Throwing on clothes they see as proper.

Listening to the teacher's they see fit, to fill our mind's each and every day.

But what I want to know might not be what you consider important.

Feeding all of these feeble minds just another humans perception of what "knowledge" is.

See i'm not saying i'm agaisnt knowledge though.

It's the only thing I truely crave.

And the only thing "they" can never take from me.

 

Because in the end when we're all buried beneath her, that's when they'll finally see how equal we all really are.

But our minds are like sponges. Soaking up every ounce that passes by, and sometimes we can't drain all the dirt and grime away.

It cling's to us because it's all around. Innevitably coming into contact with our vulnerable surfaces.

But I refuse to soak up everything he or she considers worth while.

Drowing me out with opinions labled as "the truth."

Who are they so say what is right or wrong?

Then who am I to say what is as well?

So don't believe everything you read for it could be written by a girl like me.

One who's opinion out streatches it's worth, yet acts as a claustraphobic thought.

Raging to break through the glass they set around me assuming I would never see.

But they were wrong about lil ol' me.

 

I already follow your rules what more do you want?

I tell myself i'm free every morning.

Rising to the flag that claims it knows what freedom is.

Reciting it's verses like you thought I forgot?

 

"Oh but hunny don't you forget we're the lucky one's you see!"

That's what they always tell me.

"Then if we're so lucky sir why do I still see you all following down the same beaten path?"

The one's before us that claim was the yellow brick road.

As we sit here and listen.

 

Sit here and read.

Day after day all this bullshit they keep feeding me.

 

Wait.

 

 

Let me clean off my plate first.Throwing half in the trash.

Because no I don't trust you.

No not you, not you, and sure as hell not you.

You've read all about our past you know what liars look like.

Staring deeply into your eyes hoping we're foolish enough to not notice what really pours out of their mouths.

And yeah maybe im just picky when it comes to my food.

 

Or maybe just smarter than the one's who drank the Kool-aid when told it was cool.

Stained lips for everyone to see.

 

So when I tell you I look around and only see red, you'll really know what I mean. 

But go ahead, throw on those clothes they laid out for you.

And when they begin to tear at the seams, and your left naked and bare, that's when you'll find yourself wishing you never took them in the first place.

So when I tell you i'm happy in my polka-dot socks don't worry.

Because i'm fine.

I made my decisions with these hands right here.

And you can do it too.

But it can be intimidating and resistful, so instead you conform to it.

Something I will never do.

 

 

Guide that inspired this poem: 

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