Letters & Pixels #34

You and me, we're walking
hands entwined
personified head and tails
like white or black,
he or she, or
any other extreme
on the slipstream
of opposites.
There is
a divide,
driven by a chisel neither of us
hammered.

Your hand slips and slides
in rancor, pettiness
I tug mine away
to keep it safe
from your infection
of other,
your malady of difference
the curse of indifference.

How do I make you see
the pounding, raging, exploding
thump of my heart
that begs, pleads, screams
for you to see me,
to acknowledge me
beyond this prisoner's paradigm
that separates us,
and feel me
as brothersistermotherfatherfriend.
See me with a question
instead of hate.
Hear me with a prayer
instead of a threat.
Feel me as an equal
instead of a pest.
I carry no gun
I carry no past
And only ask
Why I got to treat this world like a life raft?

 

PS Gear & Jon Wilkening