What’s in a name?
A sweet smelling rose?
Well I propose that
Nobody knows
Because our names are the same and
Our names we became.

They may be different on the surface,
My name is C-A-R-A but it isn’t my purpose.
There’s really nothing to say.
It means “Friend” in Irish
But each day I wish we didn’t have names.
Not because we would be nobody,
But instead befriend everybody.

Because a name fills you with pride
Or makes you curl up and hide
When on the inside it doesn’t matter
If you’re Joe-Schmo or John Smith.
Letters are complicated,
There are better things to judge with.
Like your voice or your jokes
But there’s no choice when other folks
Preach that are names teach or skew or
Claim us to view each other as enemies.
Capulet and Montague.

Kindness.
Kindness may be going extinct
But do you know what I think?
I think that empathy
Has to start with you and me
Myself and I we’re not like the other guy
But we are,
And you know why.

Because I’m terrified and
You’re trying to hide what’s really there
And we’re all scared so
What’s in a name when the feelings
Are the same?

They’re the same,
Whether you like it or not.
And I don’t care about your hair
Or the jeans you bought.
We’re still human, no computer,
No robots, no AI.
I.

I’m worried you’ll laugh because
This is a poor draft and my craft
Is not pristine.
Do you know what I mean?

And you’re paralyzed with fear
As we wonder why we’re here.
Why you’re you and I’m me and
Who we can and could and will never be
As we plan for a future we cannot see
And it’s hard to be kind
When you’re going in blind.

But our names are ours, to kill or to find.

There’s a strange solace in knowing that
Even though we constantly fail,
We’re growing.

And we may be nervous,
But in nervous,
There is us.
And we’re here to stay
Since we were put here anyway.

No race or sexuality will ever
Erase that we have morality and
We’re on the same side.
We can’t stay behind.

So in this prose
I must propose.

No more making titles
Into idols.
Letters that are better,
Untamed I suppose, and

Some of us put passion
In compassion,
Instead of fame.

So, may I ask?
What’s in a name?