Childishness
If I listen to you,
It's only fair that you'll listen to me, too
Ignore me, again,
Neither the first nor the last time
Ignoring me and mine
Our voices and friends
Will you listen to me?
To my voice and speech?
The patterns of vocalizations made
Into beauty and into serenades?
I'm listening to you as you make sounds
I try to pay attention, try not to look around
So why do you hide when I talk?
When I ask questions, why do you balk?
When I appear,
Why does the world disappear?
What is the point of keeping me with you
If not to answer my questions directed at you
If not to make me into an adult
Then to hold me back from everything I value?
Isn't freedom worth rebelling for?
Isn't expression worth dying for?
Isn't tyranny worth destroying for the good of all?
Weren't the French peasants ignored?
Wasn't rock and roll banned from the radio?
Wasn't Atilla the Hun deadly bored?
Why are you ignoring me?
Why are you suppressing me?
Why am I a child when I pay adult prices at the theatre?
When I talk like you do - with better grammar?
Why am I supposed to look childish,
And behave like a Nun inflicted with happiness?
But you're ignoring me again, I know it -
I have to find it out on my own again
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ahh, yes, the joys of being an intellectual, precocious, outspoken female in an insular, conservative community.
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**jstop
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