Numbers
Numbers, we only have nine of them, ten if you count zero
They are so few and yet they combine to make something greater
-Often giving me a headache-
But numbers aren’t all bad, at least I know one isn’t
Everything comes back to one
Everything is a one, just a lot of ones gathered into a bigger number
Constantly collecting into a pool of dust
Years of rust that was once beautiful
Just a blanket of numbers, shading the ones under
I always hated math, sucked at it really
I just couldn’t wrap head around so many different numbers trying to masquerade as more than what they were worth
They told me in school I couldn’t couldn’t count
That finding X was beyond me
I told them every time, IT’S RIGHT THERE
Just between ten and eleventeen, but what they saw isn’t what I’d seen
That never stopped me
I didn’t have to find X in life... only the ones
It’s the only number that ever really mattered
It showed that something mattered
They said I was nothing more than a statistic
Another heuristic for people to marginalize me
That I didn’t stand out, that what I did... had no meaning
But they forgot, that numbers have meanings
We represent something
Each and everyone of us
We collect our somethings sometimes to look a little larger than we are
But we can only ever be the little ones that we are and that’s fine
We can’t hide behind covers
Because they told us, never to judge a book by its cover
That we had to discover, all the meanings of every one words of every one chapter to make that one book
That’s how I learned, you need more than one word to make one sentence, but that one word had to’ve meant something
No comments:
Post a Comment