It feels like I have been a part of this world for my whole life,

that I was born into these twisted words

and thoughtful imaginings,

thinking up the story of my life before it even began.

My mother assures me that I kicked in the womb

like any normal baby,

but I wonder if I was really kicking

and not throwing notebooks of unfinished pieces

in complete fustration

at their failure to get across my feelings and emotions.

I wanted out of that balled up space,

into the open air of the world where I could breathe

and comtemplate my thoughts,

your thoughts,

the actions of that man who just knocked my mother over

in his desparation to get away from the store that he had just robbed a coat from,

for his little daughter.

I wonder if I know her,

have ever seen her before,

bumped into her in the never ending hallways of high school.

I remember kindergarten and preschool

where the teachers rules ment nothing,

nothing

to me and I broke them over and over and over,

all the while moving ahead of my friends and classmates,

I could read full sentances and chapters of old english

way before they could

and I was writing sonnets and love poems

before they could ever begin to fathom the depths of high school love.

I grew up before they could even form one cohesive thought.

I've been called "normal" by some,

but what is normal?

and do I really fit that category?

How many of you were righting on the inside of your mother's womb

and leaving messages for the little siblings you knew would follow after?

And while my peers spend their time trying to understand each other,

I am trying to understand the world.

I mean seriously?

why are teachers paid so little and treated like nobodies?
because people must notice that the sombodies would be "nobodies" too

if it wasn't for them.

and what about this racial prejudice and hate of anyone whose different?

don't tell me that it doesn't exist anymore,

look around you.

Terrorist jokes?

Gay intolerence?

Political assassination?
people have views and they show it,

but is the way they do it really necessary?

and then people call me insane because I question society.

Well I have a word for you,

you nonrespectful, hating, prejudiced, animals

acceptance.

And I don't understand why or how or when,

all I know is that all this time I have been putting these thoughts on paper

and fighting for what I believe in.

I think my mother was wrong,

I never kicked in her womb

because I was too busy writing and chucking unfinished notebooks

in pure fustration.

______________________________

yep a new poem, at last!!! :)

i just wrote this on a whim, no thought or anything behind it really

hope you liked it :)

~AT