Posted in Daily Post Prompt, Free Verse Poetry, Historical Portrait Poetry, Poetry, Poetry from the News, Sad Poems, Thoughtful Poems, Word Prompt

Building Walls, a poem

wall

 

You assumed

I was not strong enough

You assumed

I laid bare my heart-

And found unworthy,

I’d slink my way

Into the shadows

Unseen

Unknown

Unheard of.

Yet the traces

Of my existence

That you found so

Bereft of meaning

Barely scraped the surface.

You knew not my tears,

Nor their circumstance

You could not bare

The pangs within my heart

The longing reach for meaning

The painful truths of uncertain beginnings

Nor the iron will to make a difference

No matter if anyone cared.

I will not relinquish my right to exist.

You continue to sneer the truths

Of your unfortunate stance

Shout names into the streets

Tear apart, with your own assumptions,

The very decency of the fabric of my heart

And though I should be angry,

I shall let all the rage fall within your lap

Refuse to give home to your aversion

And allow the labels to fall by the wayside

Unseen

Unknown

And unnoticed.

For I know,

No matter which eye you see me with,

It shall always be tainted

By your own disgust.

You underestimate

The breaths

Which give birth to kindness

The hand, held out,

Believing another worthy

The power

Of different stories

Interwoven into a new narrative

And the difference

We could make,

Were we only working together

Instead of building walls.

 

© Sumyanna 2018

 

Written for The Daily Post Prompt: assumption

Beautiful image courtesy of Pixabay.com

Posted in Daily Post Prompt, Free Verse Poetry, Poetry, Thoughtful Poems, Word Prompt

Skewed, a poem

tunnel-3385624_1920

 

 

Nature desires

Clear vision

Open with wonder

Awake

And alive

No determined lines

No prescribed interpretation

Intentionally aware.

Yet along the passages

Of experience,

We learn

To skew our view.

Beauty is defined

Delineated

Proscribed

All else fails

To interest.

Like ants

Scurrying

Toward a meal –

We have no time

To notice

The harm

And we rush

To scrape

To mold

To angle our curves

To please,

Leaving all else

On the cutting room floor.

The earth exhales

An exhausted breath

As we overlook

The capacity of ourselves

And everything else

Upon her canvas.

 

(c) Sumyanna 2018

 

Written for the Daily Post Prompt: skewed

Fabulous image courtesy of Pixabay.com