To whom it may concern
This is a letter of complaint
See I was told I could be whatever I want
Without any trails or restraint,
But why do I feel so deceived
When the world says that I'm free
And so I dress to my liking
Only to find eyes glued to me?
And when the words escape me
It's as though I've killed a man
When its about sex, drugs or violence
That's when society gives a damn
But other times they are blind
And cannot even see my fiction
Each stroke of my brush is a painting
To show them my own depiction
And why do I need to be labelled
By my beliefs, background or race
Can't I just be a human
Without any trace of debase?
See I just want to be free
Free from their expectations
Free from their ideals
Free from the image
of myself in their minds
Free to express what I conceal
How can I dance,
with this grip around arm
And when I begin to fall in love
Off goes that same alarm
Why is it such a struggle
To expand this rigid fissure
Do they want me to drop my brush
So that they can complete my picture?
Yours ever so faithfully,
Ijustneedtobefree
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem