We bend and sway to meaningless whims,
Pushing and shoving with endless streams
Of tradition and orthodox spewing forth dreams,
Crafting us into characters: those picture-perfect films.
What happened to one's identity?
Of flaws amid the ridged form
Presented as unyielding to the critical eyes.
These diminished souls we have become
Forced to be cutout caricatures.
Hiding the truth to mirror expected perfection
Instead of pseudonymity,
Extenuate the differences, the inequalities,
That the raw nature of our individualities
Be not painted over for appearances,
For as a part of humanity
All have flaws amid their form.
Mary Beth, Thank your for your last post on Paper and Ink. Well written and totally thought provoking! I would love to know what is inside the poet's head and heart in writing this. Well-done! Lin
ReplyDeleteI got the idea from two separate instances of watching fictional characters dealing with imperfections, individuality, flaws. We so often try to cover up our flaws as if they are not there hoping we can just blend it. But that is not want makes us unique. Though some might read this and think that it is just supporting individuality and self at the price of others, that is not so. It’s trying to get to the heart of why we think we have to be “presentable” to others to be accepted. Expectations snuff out individuality and make one feel as if he has to cower in the corner. I guess a word I would use to sum it all up is have confidence in who you are, flaws and all. The ones who actually see you as is will love you as is.
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