AfterBirth

I never wanted to write a weak poem
and I told myself that I couldn't ,
create something the opposite of strength.
Criticizing myself with every swerve and curve
of my instrument.
Pressing down putting pressure
and going in.
Thinking of something clever.
To capture the audience and hold it.
Hold it.
Focus on me.
I have something to say and
I'm realizing it might not be pretty and it may sound silly.
Everyone whines about love.
Everyone yells when they're angry.
So what can I do?
What can I do.
To set me apart from this image you already made of me.
All I want to be
is me?
Do I really want to be me?
How can I be?
Who am I?
Depends on who you ask.
Depends on the day and the time.
Depends on how big my pockets are...
well maybe not that part because I can't let
this money thing change me.
I can't let these Benjamins rename me.
I can't let George Washington and Jefferson claim thee.
Working hard for a paper
slaving.
To the grave-and
never getting a chance to just breathe.
Take it easy.
Let go of the pen just a little bit ,
breathe in and out
and you don't always have to shout.
To be heard.
Focus outside of yourself
and look around and start
making moves to unite.
I guess I'm kind of strong.
I mean I took this paper and pencil
and I just messed up your mental.