blank slate

/to be read aloud:/


i walk when i think
so i speak with the movement
i need to move on
past the problems i drink

where does this life begin
where does a life begin
they tell me i'm a blank slate
tabula rasa - epiphany of my philosophy
society so developed
that it bred out its own soul--
Aryan, master race
what do we have to relate
privilege rides the backs of their struggles
but lifted from dirt and sweat
we lose our roots

identity afloat
society led on by those whose effects
always fall through the cracks,
scraps to be gobbled
by the mouths that lost track
of their own power to CAUSE

and we peddle our souls
for a piece of the soul we can't compose

but the blanket of racket
that rattles our mental blanks
passes us doin eighty
in our own 25-mile-per-hour zone
past country homes

we have a history but we just don't care
because yesterday's an ancient memory
and our struggles, given voice
might compromise our choice

give me something, scotland,
russia poland czechoslovakia
to know that my struggles began
before my mom threw out my dad
before dad's affairs,
before my acne scars,
before the towers took my faith
before my grandma faced that knife
something that tells me i've been around
my people started laying tracks
so i don't have to start from scratch

i'm a blank slate with stains;
the chalk line remains.



--composed by inspiration from Miguel Pinero,