Word Wednesday, people. The day where I’ve decided to post poetry I’ve written or the link to some great words for us all to enjoy. I might even have Lindsey write something on Wednesdays (the girl definitely has a way with words). That would be fun, huh?
Today my mind is stuck on the topic of a paper I’m writing for an ethics class I’m taking. The topic? Bullying of LGBT youth. Wrong. Yes, entirely. And I get to spend many pages writing about why it’s wrong and what an ethical theorist would do about it. It’s an interesting subject for a paper on ethical theory. It’s also a subject that creates a lot of emotional responses in me.
A couple of years ago I wrote a piece about religion, and my frustration with the pharisee show. Today I’m posting it because it fits so well with all the feelings pounding around inside me this afternoon. It’s called Charade.
Do you see me?
Hidden by a shell
Of a realistic world
Trying to maintain the ritual
You have all become
But dying on the inside to turn
And run and run
I was once a writer
I once saw
Something other than the vomit
Of your incessant jaw
All the talking and the mocking!
The way your world is made of clay
That only you can mold
That only you can play
People like me just slip and slide
Not a thing to hold on to
Not a shred of pride
A back door view
To an open charade
But I don’t want to join this parade, this parade
No, I don’t care to join this parade
You keep me disgusted and
My thoughts are on fire
I will burn they’re so hot
Or I’ll rot or I’ll rot
I’ll melt away to nothing on this pyre