I am told almost every single day,
that I should be somebody that speaks.
That my voice has purpose.
That it is unique.
But,
to me,
knowledge has yet to seep out my skin.
I've yet to comprehend,
even the simplicity of human.
As I bend these words to exist,
as I am.
I become less and more of a man.
Less due to emotional stagnancy,
for my being is a contrived interpretation of human being.
One formed by the masses unable,
to simply exist as a "Me".
More,
due simply,
to mimicry.
Due to being exposed to individuals such as Malcolm X and James Baldwin.
For,
absent these mind,
my mind wouldn't be.
For me to speak,
what truly would that mean?
One's mind is flooded with images of podiums.
An assortment of galvanized minds,
not being told what to do,
but how to thrive.
I see the changing of an,
unredeemable life.
One where knowing one's self,
is the prize.
I simply see things I can't exist as,
nor describe.
As I wake,
these are the thoughts,
etched in my,
simply mind.
©lamarcus12
L