I picked a grape, from a cluster at a deli
you know…to sneak a taste before I buy
A lady scorned, “yuck, ain’t that dusty?”,
and ******* her face like I was going to die

“Hey, what’s up?”I said “I gave it a rub
and I’m not going to buy unless I try,
a lick with my lips, is as good as a scrub”,
and I gave her a wink of my eye

But she wasn’t impressed by my address
and was weirded out by what I meant
She quickly called the police for my arrest
and accused me of sensual harassment

When the police arrived at the crime
I quickly swallowed the pips
For a pinch of a grape, I’m paying no fine
no matter what she claims I did with my lips

But in the meantime
we must be content,
I say, to be misunderstood for a while.
We are all very anxious to be understood,
and it is very hard not to be.
But there is one thing much more necessary;
to understand other people.

I try to write from different perspectives
Think outside of my box and be more objective
Give every style of writing a chance
Be open to learning an alien dance
I appreciate effort and creativity
Even if it's subjects that for me don't come easily
I try to write and read from different perspectives
But one thing remains constant
I feel rejected

I don't like my skin today
It doesn't fit me right
It's loose in the wrong places
Where I need room, it's too tight
The color doesn't match my mood
I don't appear slate gray
I think I might go back to bed
I hate my skin today

Perhaps inspiration is the problem.
I have always danced with words.
Blending syllables and wit
Bending sentences at will.
Firing ink from a loaded pen.
Makes for good imagery.
As I flap the pages of this notebook.
Dropping tiny daggers with this tongue.
Trying to master the craft of symbolism.
With sarcasm.
Playing with these words like hooked on phonics.
Molding them into a scene.
Of play on words.
With less drama.
Maybe even worth less.
Like pay-less.
As we walk in eachothers shoes.
To better understand the roads we travel.

They call you judgmental yet frown upon you when you are not exactly like them
They try to pick apart any possible reason for an action you take, a mistake that you make
Then boil it down to their own perfect little answer
Their expectations they hold for others can be grueling with how many hurricanes run through your head, though they claim not to ask for much
To act as if they can see right through you can sometimes be their favorite way to pass time, though  of course they don’t know half of it
The strong vibes of arrogance and judging glances they shoot behind your back are enough to suffocate you, but you choose to hold it together with a smile
Until the weakness returns, where you break down and shake
You try to place words together in your mouth, your poems, in your eyes, your soul, anything.. but the largest part of you screaming out remains silent
To expect to be fully understood by another is foolish  
For their selfishness and their narrow way of thinking are evidently highly prominent
And far too many complications are forever involved
The attempts to silent your mind  unfortunately prove to be futile
A cigarette, one drink after the other take away the gnawing pain that will eternally make its presence known
Moments of happiness turn dark as ash ever so quickly
To laugh at oneself, to lose one’s mind is hauntingly easy enough
In a world where no one truly knows your name.