But I have a radio

I am ordinary, plain.

The model of our bias country.

My height, weight, eyes, face, stature,

all average on a piece of paper.

The only things which make me exceptional,

which set me apart from my peers,

is the imperfections and faults of my skin.

On paper or screen or waves I may win the hearts of many.

I can inspire the mind and possess the heart.

But in physical and corporeal interactions,

my handicaps inhibit understanding and acceptance,

almost as if I were a talking, thinking beast.

It is as if my being has been saturated with a sort of repulsive poison.

Or, possibly, the eden in my soul simply be guarded against ease of travel,

by the leagues of thorns and forest surrounding it from the outside world.

Yet, do not despair. For in this paradise of thoughts and feelings,

guarded and entrapped by the rough, rude and difficult jungle,

I have a radio.

 

Reviews

[Dianah]

The title was unusual and intrigued me. I had to read this. I got totally engrossed in the content and forgot about the title until the end when it surprised me again. So sad when people cannot see through to who we really are under our skin. A very touching poem, Alexander.

[Phoenix]

Everyone's plain on paper.
You know better than this 'shame on you!' I say, if you don't like it, do something about it.

And I like the way it was written, it's better that it doesn't rhyme.