May 3, 2008

Shit, defined

I wrote this dark poem during my internship in Shell, Oct 18, 2002 to be exact. I felt a mumbo-jumbo of frustrations for various reasons. A lot of it had to do with how people looked at me, or how I perceived that people look at me. There's this pressure to excel in a field I had no passion for. There's this expectation that people have of me, giving me shoes I couldn't possibly fill. There's this appalling disbelief at how lines were drawn to separate the 'holier-than-thou's from the rest of the 'body of Christ'. And to wrap all that up, there's this uncertainty of my future and despair that possibly, highly probably, I'd be stuck in this shit for the rest of my life.
Shit is a profound word
A word that tells a tale
A curse understood only by a handful
Whose lives seem meaningless
Yet they're forced to trudge
In this life they hate so much
Forced to loiter on Earth's countenance
Guided only by a faint glimmer of hope
Inspired only by thoughts
Of loved ones.
Shit is a void felt
When no one understands
Everyone looks at you
Like you’re something else
It hurts so bad when they’d rather
Believe in a fake you
It pressures when they expect
More than what you can give
It makes you mad when they try
To make you someone else
You’re fed up of living your life
Full of lies for someone else
Like a puppet on a string
Tugged to amuse the kids
Like a bonsai tree
Choked for beauty’s sake.
Shit is how I’d describe
The world for its injustice
Its contradicting views
And man-made laws
How the lowly views the highly
How the highly views the lowly
How differing races, religions
And even denominations
Put aside humanity, respect,
Unity and love
Allowing an invisible barrier
Between you and I.
Shit is an expression
Of anger and disillusion
Of an ancient wound
Unable to heal
Of erupting lava
After years of silence
Of pain and hopelessness
In a world full of glitter
Only because the glitter
Is never meant for you.

Shit is a life
Of unfulfilled dreams
Of wood uncarved
For lack of tools
Of forests unexplored
For lack of pioneers
Of a yearning so bad
For something you can never get
Of a passion that screams in silence
Never to be heard.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

thank you for making internship much more enjoyable n bearable than that.. without you there, i wouldn't know what to do.. still remember the first time we met, u gave me that smile, it wasn't fake, i know, for you've been helping me every single day since that day. thanks, girl.. :)