When Black Clothes Say “I’m Trying Too Hard”

When Black Clothes Say “I’m Trying Too Hard”

The only way my blind eyes could see
Was by looking down several inches,
To the level I believed to
Be at the sole of my shoes.

But only he who is without sin should
Be the one to throw rocks.

Self loath then gathered to mock me
Since I had bowed my head down,
Never before realizing
How my ways were theirs.

Like flawed manufactures thrown aside
With only different damages.

The lenses of crying eyes became a mirror
In which I no loner wish to be reflected,
So can I detach my aura
From this merged appearance?

I never noticed how much black fabric
Rubs of on every other color.

My jagged blue jeans suddenly stood out
From the mass of outcasts gathered,
All bonds withered then,
If they ever existed at all.

Shades of mistakes wasn’t deep enough
To leave a permanent trace.

On the highway towards a dead end
I fled at the speed of broken dreams,
Stopping seconds from my fatal collision
And the noises crowding my moth silenced.

The outcry for attention was muted by disgust.
Hypocrisy leaves such a foul taste.

Copyright © 2006