Suspicion

22/07/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



There is a belief about me,

A story that people tell,

That I am something other

Based on nothing by idle gossip.



They have come to a false conclusion

Trying to fit me together like a puzzle,

When none of those pieces fit

And the picture is malformed.



The conjecture is pure fabrication

For none of them are willing to ask,

The pertinent questions go unanswered

When the lie is easier to hold.



They fancy themselves so righteous,

So completely at odds with who I am,

But they fail to see the harm they cause

By closing their minds to it all.



The feeling they get when they see me

Is somewhere between fear and hate

Because I challenge their long-held assumptions

About who belongs in this place.



I guess they’ve been protected

By a bubble of their own making

And should anyone try to burst it

There will be hell to pay.



You know that feeling in your gut

That tells you these people aren’t right?

I wake up with that in the pit of my stomach

And go to bed with it there just the same.



I had a hunch before I moved there

But I convinced myself I was wrong.

No place can be so backward thinking

They’d judge me for something I can’t change.



My hypothesis was sadly mistaken,

The people did not welcome me one iota.

They drew their blinds as I passed by

And crossed to other side of the road.



This idea that people are people

Is not so widespread as perhaps it should be,

When some are seen as better or worse

For no good reason that I can see.



First impressions can be hard to shake

But to be judged before you’ve done anything,

Or even spoken a word from your mouth

For anyone to take such offense.



I had an inkling as I pulled in my driveway

And saw all the curtains twitch

That it might take a while to be accepted

But I was willing to fight the good fight.



I should have trusted my intuition

Because this isn’t fight fairly fought.

You can try as you might to take the high road

But the low road has no bottom to reach.



They use every slur, every stereotype,

To wound you again and again

And though words should never hurt

It is a death by a thousand cuts.

The notion that they have right on their side

As they curse you out on the street

Is baffling to me every time

And you’d think I’d get used to it someday.



I don’t believe in premonitions

But this feeling is so hard to shake

That things are not getting better

But getting worse with each passing day.



They speculate on my every action,

From where I go to what I buy.

Heaven forbid I talk to a soul;

I’d likely be run out of town.



The supposition that I am no good

Comes from the ignorant repetition of rumours

That stem from derivative works of fiction

Tainted by the bias of unfounded supremacy.



Please don’t ask me to surmise

How each and every one of them got to this point

For that would make me no better

Than those who would slander my name.



I could write an entire thesis

Just on the people of this small town:

From the narrow-minded bigotry

To the overt mob mentality on display.



One day I hope to change their view

But today is not going to be that day.

I am weary and don’t feel like fighting

So I’ll just stay in my home.



To regard others with suspicion

When they present differently from you

Is a learned human behaviour

That we all must one day overcome.