Creative People

Nails That Stick Out



I don't fight the chains




Pull on the bars.


I don't try to tear through


the tape on my mouth


I Don't deny the nicotine in my throat


The more I speak


The more cancer I spread


The less conventional my clothes


the more claustrophobic


children's faces.


The more twisted my morals


The less civil society


The more obvious my tears


The more dull the sky


My mother she cries


She wishes I had been a doctor


To say that one can heal without medicine


Truly absurd I became






Is it too late to start over?


To amend my arrogance


To erase the faces I gave my feelings?


To be different was to be


the Death of all that stood above me


I'm thankful my execution will be televised


So the world can see this mistake