What? Do they just think
that I live in a cloud all day?
Do they think I have no desires
or thoughts of my own?
I am human, for goodness' sake.
I breathe the same air as you.
I stand under the exact same sun,
and the four seasons of new beginnings,
and scorched trials, and falling down, and
the final ache affect me, too.
The wind is in my hair, and it
blows so hard that my lips are dried out
for want of thirst.
I speak words, and I move. I do many things,
and you think still in your bigoted ignorance
that I am still nothing?
You know why I am not speaking? Because
if I argue with a fool, then no one will able
to tell the difference.
YOU ARE READING
CLOUDS FOR MY EYES
PoetryThis prose-poetry chapbook explores themes of clouded judgments, devotion and deconstruction, and cotton fields where a belief in purpose and a belief in freedom no longer align. New poems released every Thursday at 9PM MST/11PM EST.
