I meant to pen a happy poem
But somehow, ended up with this same old song
Heart in shreds
Dry tears shed
Overran with a fresh fload as a awake
Been too broken to, again, break
But, that's just a thought, I still break anyways.

Does the sun still smile?
This gloom has lasted too long a time
Does the stars still twinkle?
No equation is, again, simple
Do we still know beauty?
Everything is gone dark and ugly
We must all be a broken people

Weeping last only for the night
Morning is going to bring a new reason to smile
Though the night may seem to have lasted too long
Surely there is always a new song
We could either wait or
Create our own options, which most often wrong.

I am broken
You are broken
We all are broken
But if we treat the threads as a whole dress
Not as single individual threads
Then we are on the way to redress
No more broken me
Nor broken you
Just a healed and mended people.

I look in the mirror and I see a face.
It's a young man's face.
He's got brown eyes.
His skin is the lightest of browns.
His face is round
And his chin has the slightest cleft
And his hair is short and black.
He is average in every way.
And sometimes,
But only sometimes,
He is handsome.
But I don't feel like him.
I don't feel like anyone.
What does it mean to be human?
I can't be one, otherwise I'd understand.
Right?
But I have emotions,
They just work differently than most.
They're stronger
Less restricted
And more raw.
Perhaps that is why I'm weak.
My anger is angrier
And my sadness is sadder
Happiness hides in its corner.
For fear of its own destruction
Upon the slightest emergence.
The Hurt is more painful.
Paper cuts deep into my bone.
My nerves are raw and exposed
For everyone to attack
And so I lash out.
Because I am hurt.
So I must hurt others,
Those who hurt me.
But then I'm pierced
By disapproving glares.
Because what I did was wrong.
But hurting me, that was okay.
The moral choice, even.
So how can I be human
When I am clearly so different,
So angry,
So sensitive,
So wrong?
And why do I see this human face
In the mirror?

The Boss came to town one day
Took over the "Swinging" Sugar Shack.
When others came to take a sip
He warned them, "OUT and don't come back."

He buzzed them off so far away
As another came to  sip and rest
Back he came his tail fanned out
Thinking, yes, he was the best.

With space around the Treasury
for more than eight to sip and eat.
But only one can land and sip
when "The Boss" plants his angry feet.

He sits and guards his precious turf
For many minutes at a time.
Driving away the other birds
Who has found the Sugar sublime.

The reason the hummers can only hum
is because they don't know the words.
Or they would scream little bird words
at the other little humming birds.

The hummer most persistent it seems
goes by the name of Hummer Hectar.
You too would be mad and miffed
if someone stole your Sugar and Nectar.

Standing here in this celestial space
A small stage in the cosmic arena
Looking up at the vast canvas above
Wondering, what I may stumble upon
Is there a replica of this planet anywhere?
Or, am I lucky to inhabit this isolated planet?
Where we have only each other to rely on
And the only place which harbors life
And let go of our delusion of supremacy
For, we maybe all alone in this universe
Maybe, we do not understand it yet?

I once knew a guy
Who had a strange reply
If I would talk about a certain friend
He would say "oh you referring to that black guy."
And if I said about another
The color descriptions came out further
So I decided to teach him a lesson
A few things about color.

I invited him to dinner 
With friends from different races
And when asked to be introduced
I began this way.

I am pink, my friend here is white
She's yellow, he's red, over there are brown and black.
Now with the introductions done, could tell me which color are you?

All I got a was jaw dropping colorless face staring back at me.