You Don't Know Me

You don't know me;
You probably don't even care;
You read my words and nod,
or shake your head in despair.

You think that what I write
tells you a lot about me;
You couldn't be more wrong,
for you'll never be able to see

Past your own opinions,
to the end of your upturned nose;
Past your own assumptions,
where each mistaken perception goes.

You tell stories of life and family,
wonderful tales with a clever beat;
Politics, religion, and prejudice
flow like sewage down the street.

A lifetime displayed for the world,
played out with a lesson to learn;
Ablaze for the cause at heart,
as we shout, “Burn, baby, burn!”

In the end it doesn’t matter,
for everything slips away;
And when I am dead and gone
you need not suffer to hear me say:

“You don’t know me;
You never really took the time
to follow the spiraling pathway
leading into my world of rhyme.”

Lora Frikken ~ 4-17-06