FREE: from conformity

a blanket statement on a t.v.,

a color slab does not define me,

My Spirit soars on natural wings...


"Lift not the painted veil",

they say.

Might life's color all drain away?

Is my Soul

bore to the world

a dreary sight?

When unreal splashes take their flight

and leave.


To bear a me

never more real.

So I can SHOUT:

"This is my real,

the veil I bear hides a soul'.

A Soul,

of color and of light,

Of goodness, joy, and hope.

"Twin Destinies", hide, leer.

I have nothing--

to hope,

to fear.

My soul bears no veil,

in sight.

My life is not a dreary plight,

without color.

Don't you see?

The veil has no effect on me,

my Soul is there,

but covered up.



With all your might!

True colors,

no dim, no change in light.




I bear reality.

This is real.

This is me.

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world


Need to talk?

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