A poem concerning how we're all different and part of the Human Spectrum, not evolution. |
I tread along the sidewalk Tread along town Beside the flaming rug And along with the zephyr I see fingers pointing Faces jeering And I cover My face Shroud myself In darkness Or at least behind one of the large broccolis Laughter goes on Fingers are bayonets Piercing my heart Piercing my confidence “Your kind is weird,” they say “They need to be cured” “Can’t you be of any use?” And a river of snot creeps down my nostrils A deluge of tears become waterfalls My pride My pride O my pride Hic Hic Sniff An experiment Is that what I am to you? Am I a burden to you Or a threat to society? Am I a monster carved from Satan’s flesh That needs to be slain? Answer me For my soul wants proof That the Aryan race exists “Leave him alone!” a voice says I look up And the fingers, Laughter— Gone “Are you okay?” The same voice And I turn back To see a girl Dressed in a cotton strawberry dress, Skin peachy as—well—a peach I smile And she smiles back I grab her hand And she, mine We gazed at each other And I blushed when she blushed Or she blushed when I blushed “Avis,” she said And I blushed harder A Coca-Cola can “DeUndrae” Hooray! One person in the world One person accepts me A gift from God One of nature’s prizes I’m not an experiment Nor an object I’m a human Purely made in the sight of God I’m just one of many variations of The Human Spectrum And I’m happy with that |