Losing a Finger on Their Label

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I want them all to think I’m some radical insane

Feeding on the deteriorating morality

Of their McCarthyism

I want to be the one cockroach

That picks up the foot and tosses

The capitalist aside

I want to be the procommunist

                                Procapitalist

That everyone can find a piece to hate

Labels are like diseases

Slowly you watch pieces

You once cherished fall and

Rot from the bone

As one conforms and

Three murders two,

Only four three to find

He’s been played

By the all powerful five

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2 comments

  1. Faristha K.

    Powerful! I’m just trying to figure out the significance of the shape of your poem. I’m pretty sure it has a larger theme that I am missing here, sadly.
    Do check out my page too if you’re interested 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • Griffin Silver

      Thank you Faristha! The parallel lines are intended to imply that it doesn’t matter which I choose. It isn’t a matter of the views as much as these labels keep us separated and the people further from reaching their full potential.

      The last part of the poem I’m trying to imply that labels are there to create a hierarchy, a system of ranking based on some merit of quality, but the merit is regularly arbitrary (and is attributed in the media to whiteness)

      Do you have any advice on how I could make this more clear or improve my message? Thanks for commenting! And I’d love to check your page.

      Like

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