I'm blind to lines

Except the red ones, by design,

Like loose leaf, looking higher

Seeing white, being inspired to try

By a margin of heaven

Above a sea of blue lies

 

I'm a north-western Easterner

Graduated in Lone Star

I don't see the lines that everyone follows

Not the division of places or people

Whether near to my heart or far apart,

Only ones dictated by red traces and white spaces

 

I'm broken-spirited and not fully repaired

By my air travel state-to-state

I'm a token of a world, unslaked,

Who can't curl up and hide

With too many sides to be fair

How many times can I be redefined?

 

I'm like that red line, with only one way to go

And I write to let the world know

How to pull the fight where

Those blue lines aren't there, confusing the way

All those contrived fights

Because if we're all wrong no one dares say