Saturday, 1 November 2014

The One Left Behind

I have two eyes on my face
Two ears by my head
I have two paths on my way
Two sides to which my hips sway
I have spirit and soul
Together they don’t run foul
I have two hands too
One beautiful
The other similarly so
One gets the praise
And to heaven it is raised
While the other gets the chill
The isolation and the frill
My left hand
It never gets anything
They hardly accept her
They hardly respect her
When I stretch her out
Their cultural norms I flout
My left hand
Always to my sides
So beautiful she is
Like her sister and the Great God inside
Wasn’t she carved from dust?
Doesn’t she bath?
Isn’t she clothed?
Isn’t she free?
Isn’t she a similarly beautiful side of me?
My perfect left hand
Unfortunately, the one I once left behind
Write with me now, dance
Paint freely, take your chance
Those won’t shake you won’t touch me
Because without you
I’ll be living incompletely
My hand, the first and same as the other
Like the two eyes on my face
Like brother and brother
Don’t run foul
Stay here and flare
Don’t be hidden from the world’s interesting glare.

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