Divisions of Mind

By Francis Walsh

I am dreaming,

I am living,

I am fighting,

But what for,

I shout words of equality

Yet my skin is the oppressor.

My voice wants to encourage

Just to hoodwink my doubt.

My words I love with

Are conscripted to hate.

My heart that is black

Lusts to be red.

My body who aches

Just yearns to be held.

You look at me not knowing foe or friend.

I look in the mirror and don’t know where to begin.

I see hate,

I see love,

I see doubt,

I see courage,

I have to be more

But maybe I am less.

My life is rough

Or maybe it’s soft.

My mind is sharp

Or my ego is bold.

No?

Yes?

No?

Yes?

My truth is vague.

But I know it is true.