A PARAGON OF SOPHISTICATION

colorful-1325264_1280Even if you don’t understand my footsteps

Adore the way my body sways

Even if you cannot see my perfection

Remember I started this journey, naive

I have walked the narrow road

And fought with iron rods

I have climbed mango trees to hide

Waiting in silence for my attackers

I have trampled on fear and regret

And given birth to the end of worry

Your visions may not shown you my mission

But I have not earned this title by mistake.

 

Why do you look at me with questions

As if you can repair my painting

Why do you call my art a child

As if you were there when it was born

I have learned the signs of the ink holders

Those who drape words with mirth and wisdom

I have met heroines of good fortune

Who never let depression impress their spirits

I am dancing in the rain of these days

Though always believing that the sun shall shine

I am becoming a paragon of sophistication

Even if you first met me in naivety’s mansion.

UNSPOKEN RULES OF OUR PORTION

Often too quickly the new becomes old
A beautiful story is no longer told
The crawling toddler is now a limping aged
The sunrise has soon returned to bed.
By days or moments, we stay locked out
Shielded by something raw and round.

Like a tyrant wielding a rod
Ready to whip one that runs
These rules bend us, break us, belittle us
They tell us the things we can’t want
They remind us of our disabilities
As if humanity shares not one disease.

They are codes, invisible symbols
Crafted into people standing by walls
Staring at you with the corner of their eyes
Ready to drill you till you pay the price
We soon cower under their gaze
Too frightened to try to win the race
So we accept in simple resignation
Our million doses of painful portion.