Words to a song that will likely die unheard…

“But I Ain’t No Cup of Tea”
(a poppy song about identity crises and their adverse effects to those with identities)

quietly like a morning cup of tea
steaming like a southern swamp,
i am always something like
something else but me.

i used to be a barefoot boy
in the backyard pickin’
hibiscus off the back fence
and feeding ants to lions in the sand.

used to be a cloud taking shape,
light and rising up forever.
i was my father’s child but i
never toughened to have his hands.

i used to be a quick wind
blowing warm through your car,
driving recklessly southeast,
used to be a sign pointing to the beach.

i was once a patience bird.
you kept me on the outside,
always singing your love for me
through into my insides.

but right now i’m like a book
sans an introduction, i am
open to my middle pages.
will you find your way through?
through on to my end, i hope
to justify my means, and
i am always mean
and the effects are obvious, but
sometimes the causes…
sometimes they escape me.

i am like a pronoun
hanging on faceless verbs.
i am a baby learning and trying,
but i’m like… still choking on my words.