Who
am I? And who are you? Our differences are defined by trait and character that
neither of us have deliberately created, thus have nurtured and grown genuinely
in us beautifully. I’m comfortable in my own skin, and I sure think you are
too.
But
in a strong society of weak humanity we get attacked by this character imposed
on the whole…who created it?... we’ll never know… So I start noticing your attacked
differences and I subconsciously judge you, pointing at you… “You are
different”… and in return you start judging me too, for a character that
actually none of us abide to. Then what?
I
start to feel uncomfortable, and so do you…we opt abidance and cover the truth.
We stand together in one picture…picture perfect…though not true. Identity
lost, grey colors, shades of monochrome, until we can say no more “who are
you?”. Stagnant society condemned by self, unable to move in a pattern less
shell. All the same, all the same, nothing’s different, so why the care.
I’m
lost in contemplation…my mirror shows an empty frame, once so full of colored
springs. I’ve lost it…you’ve lost it…and we’re to blame.
I’ve
judged you…my mistake…you’ve judged me…your mistake…and in a followers’
society, our mistakes rippled.
I
forgot how I saw myself in your difference, and how you dwelled in my different
new. The room you gave me to discover something, progress too, and how you
strived to add hue. We painted a picture with our hands, and everybody was allowed
to trance. The world grew with me and
you, just by being different and true.
Colors
and shades, patterns of grace, let the world stream with your haze… Let me be,
let us be, let them be…and you will be.