About the Poem
He says my name like it’s a question
Do not question freedom, boy
I was the entity
Or at least I tried to be
Across the pedestals they offered in their minds, like so many stairs
Simple minded creatures, they sing of pants on fire, cheetahs, and truths misspelled
And if not standing in mockery of my moniker
Instead they choose to disbelieve my name
I have to lie about it’s origin in order to avoid a fight
And in letting them call me a liar that becomes the only truth I know
“How do you pronounce that?” They ask.
Doesn’t matter to me
This poem about my name has layers of meaning but required little thought. Everything is a reaction to reactions humans have had to my name. I thought it was my least interesting poem overall.