A nonconformist is born every minute

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  • Philosophy

    A nonconformist is born every minute

    They pump their fists in the air
    In lock step they yell
    Non-con-form-ity
    As one voice
    They are new and different

    They are well dressed
    They pretend they are blond
    Their parchment like skin
    Stretched over sculpted cheek bones
    They are unique

    They sit in the median
    With a sign around their neck
    In rags dejected
    Will work for Food
    Their situation is different

    Lives chip and shatter
    Spilling tempests
    Without sop to our conscience
    Leaving stains that linger
    All the same

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    Dano commented on A nonconformist is born every minute

    04-28-2010

    the words are honest and the message is strong... nicely written

    ginga commented on A nonconformist is born every minute

    03-16-2010

    Winter, I like poems with cold hard truths. This poem epitomizes that genre. The last stanza certainly drives the message home. ginga

    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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