CONCENTRATED A.D.D.

Concentrated A.D.D.

I find.
Poems.
Like this.
Boring.

I wanna read something with some energy and emotion,
No finger snaps or dramatic pauses, just movement and commotion.
I’m under the influence of hip-hop: a beat and a flow,
With Wu-Tang in my eardrums, it’s an addiction with nowhere to go-
But forward, to infinity and beyond,
A passion with no other option but to sit down and respond.
Grab a pen and some paper and let the words trickle from my mind,
Fill these empty pages till they are no longer simply lined.
I’m a scatter-brained kid, who’s afraid to face a crowd,
My words tend to scramble whenever said out loud.
How do you become outspoken when you’re too afraid to speak?
And how do you start a movement when your tongue is in your cheek?
If you stray from the path, of conformity and assent,
Will others follow? Or you, will they resent?
Will they continue to put their faith in false idols and ideals?
Or make that change, and rearrange, and believe in what is real?
Because the actions that we make are what defines us,
And the actions that we take are what aligns us,
That reflection in the mirror is what reminds us,
That they can build their walls, but never will they confine us.
This is my message to the world, and I stand tall when I speak it,
Be yourself, make that stand; this world is ours, critique it.