My Life Be Like...

WHOA!

Stupid people everywhere,
Eating paint chips with leaden bases
Poisoning themselves from the inside
Their brains naturally damaged,
Grow worse with each flaky morsel of death

'Don't chew on those, they'll make you sick! '
My cries, they go unheard
I scream and shout and wave my arms
But no one seems to get it.
No, no one seems to understand
What laugh, they think I'm dancing!

But no one dances like that,
For if that were a dance
It'd be the warning dance of impending doom!
Waving my arms about and jumping up and down
Perhaps I think I'm a bird who cannot fly
Though I try
I try
I...try...

But even then, to no avail,
It seems they do not listen!
Am I to be the crazy one?
The insane voice of reason?
For yes! oh yes! I must be a mess!
To be sane is so unhealthy,
I am completely straight, so I do not exist!
There is no disease I have with which to define myself!
Whatever shall I do!

What sadness!
What catastrophe!
Say you who does not understand the words that come from my lips,
Do I look retarded to you?
With my waving arms and bouncing knees
'Do not eat them, they will harm you! '
'Don't do that which brings you displeasure! '

But perhaps...
You like the feeling of distress.
Perhaps...
You like the mess you make of your life
But lo, you will not take blame.
No fingers shall ever point at you,
And say,
'This is my life. I have made of it what it is. I enjoy this distress, this mess.'
No.
You won't ever do that, will you?
You point fingers, all ten,
Wherever you can get them!
Well, stretch your arms far out, extend those fingers
Perhaps you shall resemble a tree!
And I, who looks like sickly bird trying to fly...


Well, who do you think will look the more silly?

by Amanda Saveley

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