- Apr 13, 2004
- 469
- 0
Behind
plastic smiles
and over-bright
glances,
I'm stuck behind
this cement wall
that is still transparent,
but impassable.
I by confusion's stream
drinking the bitter water
to stay alive.
For the night I lie
on the bank of subconscious
bathing in moon's glow of self-doubt.
Sleeping under a sheet of
Insecurities I rest uncomfortably, but
I try and 'rest' anyways.
What is this that I'm experiencing?
I could just hide myself in eternity,
where I can't be seen by anyone or have to
live up to the expectations of anyone.
Living in a box of compatible society.
Everything is alike and everywhere
I look, i'm confronted with my lookalike's in
and at the end.
I'm the only one with a nagging in
my cranial region.
Its like some legion on my being,
begging to be lanced.
I try to dig for the strength to get from
under these varies pretences.
I prepare to jump the fences and
run across the expansive fields of individuality.
I escape and find solace under some shade of
the tree of free.
Man, I'm tired and out of breath,
but there is no guilt yet, no repression or
personality theft.
I embrace my individuality, my afrocentricity;
I am reborn as the child of eccentricty infused
with distinctiveness and power from pure
divinity.
From behind the cement wall, I flow stream-like
from my dreams to a state of free.
Copyright 2004 Anno Domini/ "Earth's Wynne" Publishing
~Dior X. Robynsonne
plastic smiles
and over-bright
glances,
I'm stuck behind
this cement wall
that is still transparent,
but impassable.
I by confusion's stream
drinking the bitter water
to stay alive.
For the night I lie
on the bank of subconscious
bathing in moon's glow of self-doubt.
Sleeping under a sheet of
Insecurities I rest uncomfortably, but
I try and 'rest' anyways.
What is this that I'm experiencing?
I could just hide myself in eternity,
where I can't be seen by anyone or have to
live up to the expectations of anyone.
Living in a box of compatible society.
Everything is alike and everywhere
I look, i'm confronted with my lookalike's in
and at the end.
I'm the only one with a nagging in
my cranial region.
Its like some legion on my being,
begging to be lanced.
I try to dig for the strength to get from
under these varies pretences.
I prepare to jump the fences and
run across the expansive fields of individuality.
I escape and find solace under some shade of
the tree of free.
Man, I'm tired and out of breath,
but there is no guilt yet, no repression or
personality theft.
I embrace my individuality, my afrocentricity;
I am reborn as the child of eccentricty infused
with distinctiveness and power from pure
divinity.
From behind the cement wall, I flow stream-like
from my dreams to a state of free.
Copyright 2004 Anno Domini/ "Earth's Wynne" Publishing
~Dior X. Robynsonne
