The Rebirth

Wed, 10/15/2014 - 14:35 -- Dean_P

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I made myself in their image by the time I was 13.

Squeezed my body into the pieces of their machine.

My laugh too boisterous, I learned to snicker.

My smile too wide, I snapped it in half.

My heart broke too easy, I built walls around it.

 

Barricade my heart and they deemed it 'strength'.

Trodden on, I smiled through all my pain.

Drained my soul to power the lights behind my eyes.

I lived for one purpose alone, and they called it dedication.

 

For six years I hid my heart away.

I did not notice it withering.

I beat away my personality

Crippled my creativity, starved my curiosity

My race was my individuality.

 

But I am not the machine.

What they see, I created, but it's not me

I am flesh and blood, I bend and break, but more

I am a heartbeat, my footsteps their own rhythm

 

I am the guitar player on the street

Who asks only to be paid in bus fare, and smiles

 

I am the friend who watches crappy TV. with you

to justify your obsession with crappy TV.

 

I am the poet in the coffee shop,

The unashamed romantic

Who has already fallen a little in love with you

Caught by the intelligence in your eyes.

 

I am a silent guardian

To those I love

Just a whisper in the night

And I am there.

 

I am possibility itself

I am opportunity

I am my arms spread wide, head held high

Proclaiming my existence

Demanding the universe notice.

 

I am not the machine

I will tattoo my body with the words of my soul

So I cannot hide

I will smash the machine and walk in the sunshine

I will scatter the pieces and dance in the rain.

 

I will smash the machine and walk in the sunshine

I will scatter the pieces and dance in the rain. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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