Write about our glory

Is that
Is that
Is that what you think of me?

Am I just a funny accent to you?
Am I just a

Skin colour, economic situation, and praise jesus revelation?

Why don’t you show them
Who I really am
Why don’t you write about
How I once fell off my bike and scraped my knee
Or that time I kissed my friend Jimmy
Under the tree with the orange blossoms

Sweet smelling and overwhelming until I thought for sure I wasn’t kissing a boy
I was kissing a tree with a human shape

Why don’t you tell them about that time I cried because I didn’t get the grade my mama wanted me to
And I hid under the bleachers and watched the track team run round and round
And stayed till it got dark, but got so hungry I walked home and then got
Sent to bed without dinner for doing such a turn on her nerves.


Is it right to write about glory you know
nothing about? of glory you’ve only
seen on show after show about something you’ve
never lived, or touched, or felt?

You don’t know me at all, do you?