To the Ears That Cannot See

Can you hear me now?

If you can’t I can only wonder how

Why is it the only way to get your attention?

To put a gun to my head while I scream in the kitchen

With this gun as a microphone

Going against every instinct I have ever known

I speak up and speak out, but do you really understand what's being talked about? *pause*

Maybe I shouldn’t point it out.

There are 2, no,3, no 7, 153, you know what?

There are an infinite number of houses and all of them are on fire, except one.

This house is in perfect condition: white picket fence, grass soft and green, fresh coat of paint, seeming straight out of the pages of a fairytale.

But, the other “houses,” for a lack of better words, are shacks and tents and cabins, and they’re barely enough to hold its occupants.

They’re aflame and there’s only one water hose

. So the occupants of the beautiful house hog that one hose and spray their own house in an attempt to prevent the fire from engulfing them too.

The occupants of the other “houses” constantly begged for help, for the great house to share the hose and extinguish the flames of a few,

and reuse that water in order to slowly put out the rest, but they refuse.

Why should they help the other houses?

They sparked the flames to their own fires, right?

But you see, they didn’t. The great house did, but they don’t really like to talk about that.

You see every house has its own personal issues, you know that’s normal.

Families fight. Let me give you an example.

One of the other houses is made from many different kinds of wood spanning from holly to shedua, and probably going beyond those limits, who knows.

This family has a lot of problems, like arguing whether one type of wood is better than the other, or seeing other houses as better or lesser than them,

or even premature proliferation, the list goes on, but that’s not what sparked the flame.

You see one day way back, probably, 400 years ago, a group of people from the great house got curious and prowled over to the cabin made of many woods and seized a few of its members,

but with most of them being engrossed in a family argument, they didn’t notice, at first, but eventually they did.

The family went into a great depression as more of them disappeared each day,

but one day they caught an occupant of the great house dragging and throwing a member over a white picket fence unto soft green grass.

So, it started a war that lasts to this day.

You see, that’s how their house became immersed in the flames, but no one really likes to talk about that...

What’s really being talked about?

Maybe I shouldn’t point it out.

In today’s society, I’m always told that if I see an issue I should speak up and put it out for the world to see,

but you see as soon as I open my mouth I am told to shut up and stay quiet.

Why speak to be shut down? So, instead, I decide to make that issue an action.

Maybe I walk, maybe I cry, or kneel, or wear a shirt, or start a campaign, or stand around what some hope to be a pipe in the near future, or maybe I decorate my body,

or maybe I stop relaxing my hair and wear a fro, maybe I refuse to use products that are not made by people with the same...interests as me.

What’s really being talked about? Maybe it’s time to point it out.

My family has been bleeding for nearly 400 years, and you expect us to nearly get over it, can u even hear me?

I’m told that the hair i was born with may not be for me, but if “someone else” were to start wearing that same hairstyle,

it’d be considered cute, and trendy, and it’d probably be worn at the next coachella.

Oh no, this is not just for the great house either, there are some family issues that need to be addressed too.

I’m sick of this debate of no, im better than them, and prettier.

Just because somewhere down the line a great house member slipped in, does not make you better, or prettier, or smarter than the one with the purest bloodline, or anyone in between,

because at the end of the day, you're still stuck in the same house as the rest of us!

But nobody likes to talk about that.

What’s really being talked about? Now that it’s been talked about, can anybody hear me?

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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