rodriguescyrilmonte-wqhnt

I will always be me; not what they make me believe is me!: A poem

Sometimes, I feel my tears; but I am like a brightening horizon, smiling through my sorrow. Like a mustache that forms, unawares; and you shave it off, when you do, subconsciously, not owning any sadness fo long…I like to say, I don’t like to complain, or simply, laugh when I complain. Appallingly, sometimes, stateing a fact is treated as whingeing. So, you are judged, and you are cornered, for speaking the truth! If you rage at the injustice done to you, you are branded insane! Look at me dears(!) For almost two decades, I took antipsychotic drugs (in my sublime humility), even though I knew they were sheer poison for me and not needed by my body or mind! How do you define yourself to others, when you know or tell them there are truths beyond the reality they see.. And the conventions are coming down at you like stone pillars all over Samson’s long locks amd curls?! Do you know what is grief?: When the world misjudges you and misunderstands you and calls you out for the God in you? Who is inimical, me or you? And you laugh through your suffering; over the irony of them making a mockery of you! For, you know you are you; not what they make you believe you are!