Actions speak louder than words (a poem by Jack)

In the beginning was the word..They did not listen.. So they were cut off..

In that instance Wisdom arose… For it was the only remaining connection to the Word..
Walk like a prince they’ll treat you like a Prince .. They said..
Act like a king.. They’ll shame you until you crawl like a dog..

So I saunter with a limp.. Nothin like a pimp.. But more like a man wounded from war.. War with the world over my proper portrayal..

As both oppressor and oppressed alike.. I too adopted the incarnation of my victor..upon his perishing.. My repression blossomed.. That which was repressed became that which I loathed for so long.. I became the identity of my oppressor.. I am the identity of my oppressor..

As a dog.. I approach the world on bended knee.. As an American I know exactly the role to play..

So when I walk with a limp.. It may not be pride, it may not be a pimp, but it may be a certain self-hate that manifest as a particular self-consciousness.. My walk may not be absolute.. But despite it all I walk..

Not as a prince because they’ll treat me like one.. Built up only to be broken down.. Torn to pieces, broken psyche and all.. Shamed until I achieve my originally form.. 

Rather the form that was meant for me, as an American– 

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