the dream and dreamer--die.
(two poems inspired from my classroom observations)
* * * *Your Own I Am the Everything You Dreamed me to be But did not Become.
I Am the Hope That disappeared After the Lullaby you sang to me Each night that I Cried myself to sleep.
I am the Dose—one too many That over did me and Unraveled The Two of You.
I was the Spark and the Flame that Burned with Desire and made you Proud to call me Your Own.
But when you didn’t see me looking, I caught a Glimpse of the Two of You. You Modeled me a Picture, I followed to a T. And so, the Who of You I turned into, was never supposed to be… Me.
My dreams have Died. Now you sit by my side. (the ventilators keep me breathing) yet I am not really Here.
Still, I can feel Your tears wet my withered flesh.
And you sing to me One Last Time… The Lullaby from when I was still Alive. * * * * (Sweet 16) I am a 10th grader. Gender, unrecognizable to my Self Perhaps to you as well. Do you See Who I Am?
(I don’t either)
I want to cry, but I forgot How.
I am constantly castigated with depraved, yet familiar voices; adamant Faces, crowding and raping my Soul. Voices. Faces. The Albatross around my heart, keeps me from Self-Governing.
I am only 16 years old. Struggling in a Society that holds no room for autonomy, Only antipathy and Gloom.
(emerson knew this too)
I am a 10th grader. I want Freedom The Self-Reliant kind. I am a Barrage of feeling-less Technology.
If I could remember what it felt like to not be Numb, I guess I would know that I was Sad.
I crave to be seen with Candor, Ebullience and Love.
If I could see All that I Am Without the Noises, faces and Words— Who Do You Think would be revealed to me? (you are right.)
I would be… Ecstasy.
Copyright © 2004 by R.A. Leslie. All rights reserved. Contact R.A. Leslie @ www.raleslie.com for further information