biracial harmonies
By cadymae
It would be at best a quiet bleat
my soulful cry for help
The self-absorbed won't tune their ears
and my message won't mean much
to those who came from within a fold
two parents just like them
they don't own the two-note harp
that plays my mournful hymn.
To those who trudge along the lines
that split the world all through
Our melody is part harmony
and some other low bass groove
Their instruments are tuned to keys
that play light lilting airs
While ours play chords made up of notes
that sound, at turns, contraire
It's entrancing, that two note song
a double helix spinning true
It makes all hearers think
they see themselves in you.
But when you reach for your other tune,
the one made up of you
That magic turns to murkiness
and leaves you voiceless too.