Disparity

Posted on November 10, 2011 by

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by ~Julian-Delphiki

We are the bent and broken.
We live beyond the walls that are your eyes,
And when you hear us in the dead of night,
We are the whispers you thought you heard,
And the sighs you dismissed as wind,
As we pull for recognition
Of the whole,
You who aren’t we,
Aren’t bent and broken,
Forever condemned
Like us.

And as you hear our whispered cries
Calling for forgiveness,
Begging your help,
In that bestial hour past midnight,
We are those who send shivers down your spine,
With the thought of what is
And isn’t there.
And the thought of what might be,
And who we are,
And who you are,
And who you were once upon a time ago.
And who you will be if you’re broken.

We are the bent and broken,
And we live beyond the walls that are your eyes.
And when you hear us in the dead of night,
We are the whispers you thought you heard,
And the sighs you dismissed as wind,
As we pull for recognition
Of the whole,
You who aren’t we,
Aren’t bent and broken,
Forever condemned,
Like us.

We, the ravaged,
Who stare longingly,
Hungrily,
At your whole but insignificant lives,
We who are alone,
Live alone,
Cry alone,
But recognize our many other companions
As the bent,
As the broken,
Those pushed passed our limit.

We wonder:
Do you wish you were like we?
Do you want for emptiness,
Loss,
And wandering,
Living among the sorrows?
We might have wanted it too.
We who are,
Who got what we pursued,
In the depths of our misery.

We wonder:
Do you ever reach to help us?
We do not notice if you do.
We would help you,
If we were you,
And you were we.
We would help you would help we.

We wonder:
Do you know that we know
Who of you will and won’t be one of we?
We speak to you stronger,
Deeply,
Anxiously,
So you can right your wrongs
And wrong your rights
And be the inverse of we
Which is you,
Because you are the inverse
Of we.

We wonder:
Do you ever remember
The bent
And the broken,
The lost
And the lonely,
The crying
And the sullen,
Do you wish us there,
Or do you wish you here?
For we are
Lost and lonely,
Crying and sullen,
Forever and ever damned.

And as you hear our whispered cries
Calling for forgiveness,
Begging your help,
In that bestial hour past midnight,
We are those who send shivers down your spine,
With the thought of what is
And isn’t there.
And the thought of what might be,
And who we are,
And who you are,
And who you were once upon a time ago.
And who you will be if you’re broken.

We are the helping and forgiving,
Unitedly shattered
Like so many glass tears,
Yet forgotten
And lost all over again.
Those who watch you whose lives are such lies
We live beyond the walls that are your eyes,
And when you hear us in the dead of night,
We are the whispers you thought you heard,
And the sighs you dismissed as wind,
As we pull for recognition
Of the whole,
You who aren’t we,
Aren’t bent and broken,
Eternally condemned,
Like us.

We wonder:
Do you ever reach to help us?
We do not notice if you do.
We would help you,
If we were you,
And you were we.
We would help you would help we.

We wonder:
Do you know that we know
Who of you will and won’t be one of we?
We speak to you stronger,
Deeply,
Anxiously,
So you can right your wrongs
And wrong your rights
And be the inverse of we
Which is you,
Because you are the inverse
Of we.

You who just aren’t the we
That is together and apart,
In our disparity,
We see you,
And you might see we,
But we are not you,
And you are not we,
For we are the bent
And the broken,
The lost
And the lonely,
The quiet
And the sullen,
The crying
And silenced.
We are broken.

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