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Array
(
[sid] => 139707
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Some Days I Could Just Spit
[time] => 2008-01-10 15:57:53
[hometext] => This poem reveals a vein of submerged anger. Nowhere is there a better example of mankind's inability to Love Unconditionally. Nowhere is there a better example of our inability to know, understand, accept and Love.
[bodytext] => Some Days I Could Just Spit! So, what's your problem? Most days I can take it; it doesn't bother me; I can let it go. But there are other days, days I could just spit! days I could scream! days when you really ***** me off! Sure, I have my share of difficulties; words come hard for me; my legs don't work so well; my mind shuts off every so often; I look different. I know I have my share of quirks; it may seem strange and unusual, different from the average child, but I learn best when I am in my comfort zone; places where I feel safe; places where I feel secure, like home, under my desk, or in a distant corner of my classroom... It's probably a little odd, different from most children you know, but I attack each day with knowledge from the day before, like, if it's steaming, it's probably hot; or, just cause it's on my plate doesn't mean it tastes good; or, if my teachers didn't understand me yesterday, they probably won't understand me any better today... You'll really think I'm strange, incredibly peculiar, very different from all other children, but, I even have my own set of preconceived ideas; like, all kids take medicine every morning, or, people in white coats cannot be trusted, or, people who cozy up next to me and speak in sugary sweet tones usually want something. Okay! Okay... I know I'm out in left field, but what is it about you? Before I could even walk, as a stranger you came at me, assumptions and agendas in hand, expecting, demanding, judging, and if I couldn't do what you asked me to do, even though I had been able to do it the day before, you'd assume I was obstinate, stubborn, that I wouldn't instead of couldn't; you would throw a silent glance, a javelin fraught with arrogant condemnation... in an attempt to control, you'd callously label my failure and confusion a controlling behavior. Why is it that with all your years of living, you cannot understand? Why do you have to put an insulting label, a derogatory defining stamp, on anyone who can't do what you want them to do? Why do you stubbornly believe the worst about me, and the best about yourself? When did you turn off your brain and stop learning? When did you shut your eyes and stop seeing? When did you stuff your ears with cotton and stop hearing? When did you harden your heart and stop feeling? I guess on days like these; days when I cannot think; days when I cannot see; days when I cannot hear; days when my heart is hard... on days like these I need to work at understanding that really, you are no different than me. But, some days I could just spit! I suppose even that is true for you, too. rko november twenty-six, two thousand, two [comments] => 1 [counter] => 211 [topic] => 21 [informant] => enigma [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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