It seems as if I can see for the first time.
For my whole life I was placed on a track,
they put blinders over my eyes,
They only wanted me to see straight in front of me;
I never questioned what was around me,
I simply thought life was like walking in a line
There was never any bends or dead ends,
And if there was an obstacle
It was always expected.
I was like one of those racehorses,
Taught to run,
Taught to win,
It was simply commands and conforms.
Objections were impeded, triumphs were praised;
With those blinders on it was all black and white, all up and down,
There was nothing in-between,
Only lines.
Now I stand,
Looking down the track,
The bit cutting my mouth.
I can feel it now,
The pain,
The salty blood,
The sharp sting of the whip;
Like a wasp
it bites me,
But I know it will not die.
The bell rings,
The gates snap open
But I will not run.
I will not win.
But I do not care,
Because now I can see;
there are more than lines,
there are colors.
But it all seems fake,
Surreal
A mistake.
People smile,
They laugh,
But everything is too bright, too furnished,
Vivacious;
I try to walk
But there are no lines.
I start to spin,
Fourteen times.
Their eyes watch me,
Cold,
Their smiles all forged by one hand.
I want my blinders,
I want my lines,
I am lost,
But they are still blind.