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Showing posts from July, 2019

Identity Poetry | Frankenstein

The world is full of woe–
everybody knows who they want to be but nobody knows who's who; the world is full of hearts yet few are beating straight and true; the nose of Cruz the Kidman's arms, the Jolie's legs, somebody’s breast and butt and lips, someone else’s breath and words, some other’s tongue to swear at the world, to adopt and adapt and create a Frankenstein of the modern world.
everybody knows who they want to be but nobody knows who's who;
They all know which parts they want, but nobody knows whose body they do possess; that incessant mind blowing stepping on identity is slow but steady; who in the world I want to be? if not in a world I can be me– where I don't display myself everyday in that unstoppable show– in a soft smelting pool, I lose my only true ore– and mold myself in endless shapes not trying to learn to be a different man not learning to be, at all, and losing all my humanity.
trying to learn to be a different man not learning to be, at all,