Nothing to Write About

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once I was a number, just a digit, meaningless and standing in a straight line obeying the rules no matter how stupid

once I cried alone in the dark feeling sorry for myself and making excuses for the brutality of others

one I saw the glittering riches of others and decided I wanted some, a little, all of it so I could be cool too

once I heard preachers telling me to fear, to change, to go to hell, to cut my hair, buy new clothes

but this was nothing to write about…

there was a time when I was unhappy, failing to please anyone no matter how hard I tried

there was a time when I worked all day and all night and then was told I was still worthless, no good

there was a time I was confused by what I saw in the mirror, afraid of what was inside my heart, my mind

there was a time when I wanted to do many things but stood on the shore watching ships sail away

but this was nothing to write about…

I remember when my tongue held evil words frolicking in the bigotry of those dullards around me

I remember when my ears heard constant discouragement and my spirit was crushed by its wheels

I remember when life seemed so long, so dull, so hard, that all I could see was more pavement marked by a stripe

I remember when I doubted truth itself and almost fell down the deep well of despair

but that was nothing to write about…

but then I saw and remembered so clearly

when my childish fingers wrote letters to washington challenging war, murder and death

when I first saw Easy Rider and my eyes were opened and my heart became brave for the first time

when I first held a baseball and like the way it felt and then got a base hit and ran to first

when I heard the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, the Grateful Dead, and Bob Dylan

when I discovered girls

and that was something to write about

 

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