The Ultimate Stage
Locations
I can give a smile, and say I'm ok,
even when I don't feel that way inside
I can speak to you, in a different languages too,
some because my skin demands me to.
I can greet everyone warmly, when I don't want to see anybody,
for its expected of me to do so.
It's part my fault that you don't know me,
but its part your fault too.
I, for my heart is encased in walls and gates
too afraid to venture outside
too afraid to to let you in
too afraid to show myself
I, for no matter how close you can get,
I cannot let you see my tears
as the roll bitterly away
I cannot let you see my anger
twisting in my heart
I cannot let you see my thoughts
flowing happily and sadly, dancing
along secret lines, swirling
by their own volitions, hiding
all that is inside.
I, for although I care for you and
perhaps you care for me,
I can't let you know that I
am a girl who likes the quiet in this noisy world
and at times when the misty blankets me from buildings
and at times the rain, as it washes away the world.
I can't let you know that I
am a student whose head is stuck with the tales of days past
whose fingers like to dance to the printed notes
whose heart wishes to find the way to correct this and that.
In my head I see the way the crowns passed from hand to hand
the way the soldiers trekked across the land
the way the victims had to hide, or starve, or were doomed to death.
I see the way the arts had changed
the way the world turned and turned
the way the land evolved while the sun and moon stayed the same.
I am stuck in the clouds
clouds that sometimes depict a better world than now
or sometimes where my favorite fictional characters dance
clouds where upon our reality cannot stand
wishing they rain down my dreams
my hopes
my wishes.
You, though, because of the mask you, too, hold
because of the glasses you see through
you will not let me see past your paintings
you will not see me without a tinted plane
that divides us, screens us, blocks our hearts.
You cannot let go
of the prejudices that you hold
of your own fears to let me in
of your own fears to face the world.
You cannot let go
of the imperfections that hold us in
of the way your eyes judge
of the words that you have heard
clogging up your ears
of the pictures you have seen
fogging up your eyes
of the way you have been raised
covering up your heart.
It is your flaws,
and mine too,
that make this world a stage.
It is your fears
and mine too,
that draws a curtain before our faces.
But it is not something we can change
although we may wish to
Not a change that can live in this world
until we can both change
the way our ears listen
the way our eyes see
the way our noses and hands feel the world
the way our heart beats.
Until we can accept our own flaws
then others' too
and wear them as a scarlet letter
ashamed, but proud too.