PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

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I am quicksand

In a desert...

You are lost,

And your only hope

Lay someplace 

Deep beneath the layers

Of false pride

And prejudice

That your mother's 

Hand laid,

Brick

By 

Brick,

Skillfully,

Eyes closed

For fearing the truth,

And hands clasped

In fists of rage,

Genetically embroidered

With ignorance...

You knew it was wrong,

But were programmed 

To weave your tapestry,

And i struggle with the question

Of what it is

That makes a child seek 

To emulate human kindness

When all they are taught 

Is hate.

I know it is senseless

To think i can help you

As you sink deeper

And deeper,

But you look to me

Because i am

The only thing

That has ever made sense

To that person lying

Underneath

All those layers

Of hate,

That are so difficult

To face...

The truth

Of how you were

Buried alive

So young,

And so every once

In a blue moon,

When the ignorance

You have inherited

Slaps my face

For no known reason,

i count to ten.

Because i know

That familiarity

Breeds contempt,

And people

Only know to do

What they

Learn to do,

Whether you are

Buried in bricks

Or buried

In quicksand,

Is all just

The same thing,

Until you reach

The bottom 

And decide

Where the other person

Ends,

And where you begin...

...And then

The hardest part

                                                                                                                   Is trying To stay still

The verbal bitch slaps are easy.

So go ahead,

Hate me until

You see

The other side of you.

By all means,

Hate me unto

The love

You cannot see.

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