Take a bow: i'm watching you

TAKE A BOW              by FranKo

You spend a lot of time
convincing people that you're happy inside,
But I see through
Yeah, I see through the lies
You're wearing your disguise
And everyone's just doing what you do

Picture perfect faces,
Convincingly done,
They're out to catch a yellow bellied, red blooded, lady with a shotgun,
Point it at your followers and run
Well you got it all wrong!

Take a bow
They're watching you
Why and how
I'll never know
You

Strike a pose and make it pretty,
slide the note under the door
Just sit back, enjoy the view
He'll drag you to the ground
When nobody's around
And take a sign to turn you black and blue

Picture perfect faces,
Convincingly done,
They're out to catch a yellow bellied, red blooded, lady with a shotgun,
Point it at your followers and runWell you got it all wrong! 

I was born without a voice and I've been living in deafening silence since. But that degree of silence is my background track, it's my habitat , it is what i exist for. So I opted for what my sight  readily suggests and what are whispered in my ears. I learned to watch and listen.

This week our PI teacher gave us an activity, he handed each of us a paper. The front has a drawing and at the back a number is written. He instructed us to draw the front in a 1/4 oslo paper. These papers were puzzle pieces. When he completed the puzzle, it showed an image of Jose Rizal. The puzzle looked funny. We used different coloring mediums, different strokes, different shades. But if you take a few( or maybe a lot) of steps back, it shows it’s beauty. He explained that the differences of the puzzle pieces reflects our individuality. We have distinct point of views and we look at things from different angles. We may have the same eye structures and look at the same things but we, ourselves apply the difference. Who can see the real image? After each lecture, he delivers some kind of a pep talk. The topics are mostly random. He encourages us to write, to be skeptical and even to bend the rules. But this time, he talked about the cliché “ Being You””. He said that each of us are good persons, not better not best, we need not to compare ourselves. In comparing ourselves against other people, we gradually destroy our unique selves. 
Our humanities professor isn’t as talkative as Mr. PI. He’s the kind that you may listen too and say “” He’s so gorgeous it hurts”” ( Emily from LOL) and then you chose not to because he’s getting too factual, too boring. Wait, I’m exaggerating , he’s not that boring and he’s not that gorgeous either, but he can turn heads ( we needn’t to turn because there’s plenty of him to see up front). There are moments, when he clears the vagueness of reality and his words are literally being engraved in my memory. That day, he talked about racial discrimination in conjunction with our report on Tribal Scars , an African Literature. I thought we were created equal. That no matter what blood flows in your veins, no matter what shade of color your eyes are, even if you’re a blinding blonde, a redhead , a brunette or black haired, no matter if your skin is faded and pale , brown or dark we are just plain humans , no more and definitely not less. Racial discrimination is too big of a deal to ignore. Anger suddenly combusted within me. 
Listening to speakers is one of my infinite weakness. I don’t understand how they do it, How they can talk to the crowd without undergoing diaphoresis, dysrythmias and loss of consciousness. “” Don’t hate what you don’t understand " they say, I don’t. That’s just for math, something I hate because of lack of understanding ( it’s my biggest MATHMARE””. )
When my mind drifts, a speaker is born. But she’s afraid. She cant come out, her feet is tangled by vines. A massive hand is pressing against her mouth suffocating her. Then she gives up. She remains hidden. She watches and listens. So take a bow she’s watching you.