deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Dirt of My Six-year-old Self
How many showers does it take?
To scrub off the dirt from where I came?
You can’t dry the tears
from the soul of a child
whose life has been stained.
Trust me, I’ve spent my life learning
how to run from that pain.
"You can be anything!",
are the words they taught me to believe.
Blocking the fine print
until I was old enough to really read.
How dare you program me,
and then put me on a shelf!
Make me believe,
then cause my doubt of self!
It doesn’t matter
that I wasn't to blame,
I still fear the prejudice
of this unspoken shame,
You are born into worth,
or you aren’t treated the same.
Mimicking a monkey social hierarchy,
we are far from tame.
I have long since memorized
the look of society's face,
when I slip with my words
and revert to old ways.
Being clever, and maybe sharp as a tack,
barely changes a thing.
The unspoken disease is written
like the child is to blame.
Never to be clean enough,
pretty enough, smart enough
The labels are etched into my hand.
Unless, of course,
I ride the coattails of a man.
Just incase you thought
social economic disadvantage was the end....
You find another hurtle to fight and not win
Another life lesson again, my friend:
Learn your place,
Then navigate around it,
to get what you will.
Backseat politics:
Where women can be in charge,
as long as a "he" is seen at the wheel
A good heart?
It doesn’t really matter:
It’s best to know the right people.
And, of course, be one of “his” team.
How many women are really the ones
running the scheme?
So, let's take a moment to be reminded
of how little we "seem" to mean!
And so the story gets told,
and I am internally branded until I'm old,
I'll never scrub hard enough
to wipe the dirt from my 6-year-old self!
I can’t learn hard enough
to grow a hairy pair.
And the world can’t paint
pretty words colorful enough
to hide the truth.
So, just go to hell, all of you.
To scrub off the dirt from where I came?
You can’t dry the tears
from the soul of a child
whose life has been stained.
Trust me, I’ve spent my life learning
how to run from that pain.
"You can be anything!",
are the words they taught me to believe.
Blocking the fine print
until I was old enough to really read.
How dare you program me,
and then put me on a shelf!
Make me believe,
then cause my doubt of self!
It doesn’t matter
that I wasn't to blame,
I still fear the prejudice
of this unspoken shame,
You are born into worth,
or you aren’t treated the same.
Mimicking a monkey social hierarchy,
we are far from tame.
I have long since memorized
the look of society's face,
when I slip with my words
and revert to old ways.
Being clever, and maybe sharp as a tack,
barely changes a thing.
The unspoken disease is written
like the child is to blame.
Never to be clean enough,
pretty enough, smart enough
The labels are etched into my hand.
Unless, of course,
I ride the coattails of a man.
Just incase you thought
social economic disadvantage was the end....
You find another hurtle to fight and not win
Another life lesson again, my friend:
Learn your place,
Then navigate around it,
to get what you will.
Backseat politics:
Where women can be in charge,
as long as a "he" is seen at the wheel
A good heart?
It doesn’t really matter:
It’s best to know the right people.
And, of course, be one of “his” team.
How many women are really the ones
running the scheme?
So, let's take a moment to be reminded
of how little we "seem" to mean!
And so the story gets told,
and I am internally branded until I'm old,
I'll never scrub hard enough
to wipe the dirt from my 6-year-old self!
I can’t learn hard enough
to grow a hairy pair.
And the world can’t paint
pretty words colorful enough
to hide the truth.
So, just go to hell, all of you.
Published 11th Sep 2024
| Edited 12th Sep 2024
Author's Note
It's okay, I'll painstakingly get the last laugh.
I wrote this about 10 years ago, I was pretty upset, so it didn't flow as good as it could have...just found it again and thought I'd share.
I wrote this about 10 years ago, I was pretty upset, so it didn't flow as good as it could have...just found it again and thought I'd share.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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11th Sep 2024 10:28am
11th Sep 2024 9:26pm
