Tell me all the ways you have been sadistic,
And whether you prefer your hair straight or curled
I want know if you define yourself as optimistic
And your outlook on how we have treated our world
What colors do you see when your father says your name?
Do they change when whispered by a beloved’s aim?
I want to know why you think we live in a society
Where whether your clothes have a famous name stitched in
Or whether your face is powdered with tacky layers of has-been
Matters to how others view you and the specifics of the insults threw
I want to know what the afterlife is in your eyes
Whether you think we keep waking after we have died
I want to know if you have found yourself in the subdued halls with the shrieking sounds as the candelabra falls
I want to know whether you believe you could gander to stay after you have gone
And if you would wander forever or choose to move on
For you may have given up hope, or may have been slowly slipping off the rope
But keep your head above the crowd, with your feet firm and proud
and reread my poem every blue
time you think no one cares that you have fallen askew
Because I do