We are the people
Who run our own lives
In the best way that we can.
But in this time of riddles and gags
You seem to misunderstand.
We own ourselves no matter what
The big bullies who grew up enforce.
No matter the rainbow
No matter the shine
They seem to try to keep us aligned
With the rhythm they set that’s punctured and broken
Like a public record-player requiring a token.
This madness is eating away at our guts
And pouring our souls out gets us stuck in ruts.
Why all this?
Some petty feeling of power?
.. When you were young, did you ever receive a flower?
Something, like art, should have let you realize
Our differences are pure
And it is unwise
To try to keep us under for a mere moolah prize.
Your incentive is whack.
You smoke it like crack.
…A record of your heroic efforts?…

Excuse me, sir,
These are my arms.
What are you doing with these?
Didn’t I call you
The other night
To ask you to protect me?
When in fear I called the number
We are supposed to daily
If ever we need help to fend off
What is disturbing the peace.
But why are you all so free
To take my dignity?
What’s the difference between you
And the source of yesterday’s suffering?

Your grasp is more painful than that of those
You hand-cuffed recently
For not listening when one had screamed
“Please let go of me.”


~ by The Skies Serene on August 25, 2010.

One Response to “Hypocrisy”

  1. brilliant words…
    love your sharp observations and excellent portrayal of life as it is.

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