They Say I See It Black

They Say I See It Black                             July 30, 2008

Those vultures swoop below

To whisper sweet nothings into my ears.

They pontificate what they proclaim to know

And that I don't see since I am of few years.

They say I see it black,

Poster child, always on the attack.

I don't want to hear it, but I'm their carrion, they say;

I've seen it black from my birth to today.

And those vultures are ugly, too,

But one's a boy and the other, a girl.

Their love for each other grew,

But when I saw them, I began to hurl. 

They say I see it black,

Poster child, always on the attack.

I don't want to hear it, but I'm their carrion, they say;

I've seen it black from my birth to today.

They say they know why

I don't see art much,

And that's because I haven't "lived."

What do they know when they eat what dies,

All those opossums and such,

And it doesn't matter to them if anyone cries?

Those vultures are judgmental,

And have little room to speak.

Maybe it's them, in fact, who don't have souls,

And that I'm at my spiritual peak.

They say I see it black,

Poster child, always on the attack.

I don't want to hear it, but I'm their carrion, they say;

I've seen it black from my birth to today.