- Books, Literature, and Writing
Carnival - House of Mirrors
Reflection and refraction
I am pieces of myself
I am stuck in the recesses of myself
An illusion on glass turning in on itself
Over and over the circle continues
The clarity I seek is not in these misfit elements of melted sand
The introspection inside the reflection is timed and torutured
It has a lack of nature and nurture
It is as is
An image in the image of an image
The authenticity of my tenacity is halved and halved again
I am but a mere copy of the authentic me
I cannot be what I think I might be
I am power and privilege
Wrapped in the disguise of a simple man
I am exclusionary and descriminating
Simply by being
I am an enigma wrapped in a metaphor
A concept imagined and deplored
I am white and I cannot see
The history before me has ripped me of my authenticity
Stole my identity, impacted my personality
And I possess things I cannot acknowledge within me
And I possess things I cannot acknowledge by being me
I begin to think in the abstract where I am taken back
By the complexity of trying to be
To see the result of my history, or my family tree
I can linger in the murkie waters for so long
before I am tortured by the things I see
I move towards accepting what others see and feel
I reverse my thinking about this world
For being me is a reality, it is as I see, it is my perspective
I can hear and listen to others depiction of me
But truly can I take on the weight of white man's history?
Divide and divide and divide again
I feel dissected, distracted, diluted and devoid
My feelings... can they be me? Can they show my authenticity?
Can I rise above the white man's family tree and erase the feeling of being empty?
Can I help others to be transformed to an equal in their reality?
The signs all show a different way, a confusing way
And really there's nothing more I can say....
Search and strive and fight..... try as I might.... I'll always be white.