"Understanding the Beauty of Being Labelled a Minority"

Location

Living as different people, different species manages to dictate our lives somehow. Capsized into the river, flowing in the mainstream of American culture whose culture is “diverse”, words coerce us into seeing and believing that achieving can be done by the white man and the white man only.

He reigns superior to all of us who surrender and throw in the towel, inferior. Labels, stereotypes, associations to actions that were once good manifested; infected and the lies detected amongst our own fair people.

Neglected and abused as if we had a genetic failure, something that they believe could change you with medical practice and psychoactive pills; a biological tailor to fix not the jeans you wear around your waist, but the ones inside of you who make up America’s despised icon.

The ultimate traitor to not only what it means or what it stands for, but by excluding our people from peace, love, and at one point, war.

 

I understand the conception of misconception, adaptation to climates and biomes which feel nothing close to what we envisioned as a home; I’ve sat in tears soaking my pillows and blankets from the strong words that I have heard,

I sat there alone.

A minority under a majority, a fraction of one-fourth reciprocated; annotated, contemplated thoughts of hatred from those who now rest on the bar above us. A concept sophisticated, and underappreciated by those who rest above the lines of liberty and granted a gracious bounty; a fraction flipped to read “you are f***ed and will never feel like you belong in this country”.

Judged by civilians, leaders, and religious authority who will never understand the strength, power, and love in a minority; we are all different and vary in size, shape, skin tone and color, I am measured on a scale beyond the rest of the others.

 

Judged by not the color of my skin, the state or condition I am currently in, who I am now or where I began to begin, but rather portrayed for how society opposes my “deviant behaviors” and “unholy uttermost desires”; beyond American standards and proprietary, a country run by liars.

But by how America believes I have sinned and that the other 5% of us have done the same; I am judged physically, because of my sexuality.

 

If you took a good look at me and assumed that I was straight, trust me, I did a long time ago and I tried nothing more than to conform and recreate myself so I wasn’t hated by half of these stupid close-minded... (What’s a good word?)... Jerks!!

Store clerks, people in research labs, taxi drivers and taxi cabs; “normal American workers” who still don’t have a clue. If homosexuality and being born a minority was a choice, would I choose this rough path in life, trying to speak without a voice?

Because I want to love someone who is better than them; someone more genuine, not a vicious, gnashing canine. Simply put, someone better than the average American conformist who beliefs from the Constitution and God’s “holy words’ manipulated by politicians and the government that can be proven “untrue”; words they don’t want to hear and hoped to have never heard.

 

If homosexuality and being born a minority was a choice, would I choose this rough path in life? Trying to speak without a voice?

At this point, I would. Because I know I can read through the hatred and look better than the typical conformist; I am better than they could ever be...

After all, doesn’t that define true beauty?

 
 
 
 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741