Chatterbox: Down to Earth

Check it.

Can I be real a second?

For just a milisecond?

Let down my guard and tell my buddies how I feel a second?

I'm not a model of correctness, I'm not a major general

The soapbox isn't mine, it belongs to everyone who's

all lining up to get up on that pedestal 

Writing letters to elevate

Your beliefs, embellish on eloquence

But the elephant's in the room

The truth is in ya face when ya hear us being torn apart like—

Boom!

Old scars have resumed bleeding,

How can we tell when we should be leading,

When we're too scared of being right to keep retreating? 

There's no stop to the fleeing as the ghosts all crook in:

Knight takes rook, but look— 

We are undone.

Unmanned. 

Misunderstood.

Unplanned.

We gotta make an all out stand.

We can't pretend we've got it all in hand.

~~

In all seriousness, I'm going to continue this post minus the RHM parody, because it sort of limits my expression. (It was fun to write, though.) And, since I've been listening to way too much Hamilton, keep an eye out for the references. There are a dang lot. 

[ To be read fast with strong rhythm and sense of rhyme as sort of a rap ] 

We each have our own ideas and opinions. We've gotta respect the contrasting ones even when they threaten to make us come undone. It's a part of the world I'm accustomed to facing, and if you decide to leave, then go ahead, but imma keep on racing.

"Why're you upset?"

I'm not.

I'm just reeling a bit, feeling a bit like we're on a spit spinning over a fire that we can't put out alone. I love diversity. I'm so happy that it's something we can recognize, but if you "disagree", then that's okay. 

Your opinion is yours alone and I'm not gonna judge for what you believe.

Nobody's forcing you to stop believing or compromise what you think is right. We're not going to make you leave, but believe that I think this is right. 

Cause, I mean, between the bleeding and fighting I've been writing and really, I'm scarred too. We've made it through things like this before and we'll make it through more. It's true. 

The wounds are deep, but we've just gotta lick them. Jigsaw puzzles can always be put back together with effort, but if you leave them sitting on the ground pieces are gonna get lost, scattered around, so let's act now.

We've just gotta take a breath and close our eyes and recognize that no matter how we try this isn't a haven, we're not perfect, we're bedecked in faults, for every box of cupcakes there's a shaker of salt.

Hey.

Look around, look around. We're pretty lucky to be alive right now. I think that this place is one worth fighting for, don't run, stay. We've had good times, we'll have many more. We need to stand as a unit, not different sides to a war.

I look around, friends are all I see, this site is my descendensy, don't be surprised when my autobiography mentions thee.

No matter our tribulations, we're truly a nation of people who believe and laugh and reach for a glass— To make this moment last, we've gotta rise up and know that if you hit a new low there's only one way to go and that's to rise up.

Wise up, eyes up, rise up, up, up, up...

So stand, let's stand, in our land, and?

Even if you leave, you'd better believe you're still a part of this plan to better our futures as writers and dreamers and poets and schemers, and someday, someday, we're all gonna rise up, rise up, rise up.

Take my hand. I don't claim to be a leader, nah, I'm not revolutionary. I'm not doing anything that hasn't done before. I don't expect rememberance but friends in a land like this is all I need in a cycle of love, begin and endless.

I just do what I do best— Writing and saying what I think is true, and, um... this hasn't been proofread, it's typo-ridden and raw.

And it's my message to you.