poem

Spork

misunderstood and empty

is it a spoon?

or is it a fork?

it is unknown among many

what’s it’s purpose?

to scoop?

or to stab food?

it’s lost and afraid

it has two paths to take

which will it chose?

never accepted

will never be real silverware

always will be just a sad plastic

what’s the point?

is it created just to be criticized?

unneeded and useless

what choice does it have?

to continue to live in a crushing sadness?

or to strive to be the best it possibly can?

it becomes tired and uninspired

always lying in the cabinet

bent and damaged

can never fully pick up food

or even scoop for that matter

teased and broken

questions itself

should it continue to live with this emptiness that it beholds?

or should to change itself?

but what should it be?

Why can’t it just be itself?

in the end

there is really no difference

because it doesn’t matter how you get the food

it only matters that you did it

and yes

a spork happens to be able to pick up food

in both ways

it shouldn’t have to doubt itself

yes, it’s special

what’s so wrong about that?

why that in this society,

we have to feel wrong about being unique?

it’s something that we should hold treasure

we need to accept ourselves the way were are

the only opinion that matters is yours

forget the others

why do we need to fill ourselves with self loathing

never seeing anything good about ourselves

is it because we don't feel enough?

people need  realize that we can't change for them

we don’t have to live up to their expectations

we don’t have to be who they want to be

just be YOU

not her not him

just you…

it doesn't matter where you come from

or what your wear on your feet

or even what music you enjoy

in truth

we will never be enough so just be yourself

and stop pretending

we don't have to live with this hurt forever

we can be better

we just have to try

anyways

why would one chose a fork

or even spoon

when you can have a significant

spork