Why are there labels?

Because humans need to be,

In control of and organize,

Everything including others.

We try to put people,

Into boxes that,

Fit to what we want.

People do not realize,

That we all have,

So much in common.

They don't realize that,

Everyone is just themselves,

You are you.

Be you,

Ignore the labels,

Speak out against them.

Be yourself,

Don't listen,

To what they say.

Nobody can be you,

So be you.

Labels.

One first starts with baby boy or girl,

then given a name.

During those early years,

years not remembered,

one becomes are cute,

adoring.

sweet,

precious, so say the neighbors.

When old enough to understand,

one becomes a son or daughter,

and next, becomes a student.

In this process one make friends and becomes a friend.

Then one becomes a teenager.

People will call one smart,

Though that isn’t the name given one.

But it is a label.

One day one goes from student,

to a college graduate,

or enter the military,

and becomes a soldier.

One day down the road,

one gets married,

has a job and becomes an employee,

or has their own business,

and becomes a boss.

One has children and becomes a father or mother.

Time rolls by and one becomes a grandparent.

There are many labels we carry through life,

These are but a few.

I used to walk to market

for our fruits and vegetables

for bread and flesh

...but no more.

I go now to old archives

hunting down non-gmo’s

while fingering thin labels

pressed over

...cans and jars.

Craving only adjectives

Like fresh, tart, and juicy sweet!

I’m devitalized by words

Deficient in these

...proper nouns.

#Labels #Challenge

Empty eyes look down at the floor,

Unconfident and insomniac,

fatigued by man.

A blank mind remembers,

Reminisces time.

Time, that’s gone.

Time, that changed the emptiness in those eyes

for good.

A masked face, shines bright in daylight

Moving through the shadows

Of its own flaws.

Weird, says the world.

Incompetent, she’s called.

But not a soul knows,

Nor cares to know.

So she wears a smile

Looks up with empty eyes

And walks on,

Masking her pain,

Accepting her flaws,

In self hatred and love alike,

For the show must go on.

@Danceinsilence

This is my first post here, so I don't know if I'm doing it right, but here goes!

Frozen blueberries cost me sixteen dollars

i hate its prize tag label

Frozen Strawberries cost me fourteen dollars

i hate its prize tag label

Frozen yoghurt cost me two dollars

i hate its prize tag label

Frozen fries cost me five dollars

i hate its prize tag label

Frozen apples cost me three dollars

i hate its prize tag label

Frozen watermelon cost me seven dollars

i hate its prize tag label

Frozen papaya cost me four dollars

i hate its prize tag label

Frozen saussages cost me six dollars

i hate its prize tag label

Frozen chicken cost me twenty dollars

i hate its prize tag label

Frozen lamb cost me fifteen dollars

i hate its prize tag label

Frozen chillies cost me fifteen cents

now i love its prize tag label!

As I walk down the shadowed path I think

That you were like to me Saussure’s poor tree

That bore a’thousand names so quietly

But to give name to one will cause it shrink

And death for what was it before the link

Was made twixt sound and sight? And can it be

That each new name gives new identity?

And if this true did I ever so brink

The names that strove to hide the nameless you?

The doe that hides within a for’st of names

That I weak hunter chase with hopes to tame

To own to have to love to see to know.

From me you kept the name used for the doe

And so I left in sadness and in woe.

Epileptic. A label that describes my physical condition.

Diabetic. Also a labeled description.

Eccentric. This label describes my personality.

Whore. This label was given to me by my church, and so called friends, also my ex who left me with five children.

Yet none of these labels have ever defined who I am because none of these words describe the being that I really am.

It's written all over my face,

Isn't it?

How I live,

And how I think.

It's hidden in the words I say,

Isn't it?

Where I come from,

And where I'm going.

It's reflected in the light of my eyes,

Isn't it?

What I've seen,

And what I dream.

It's woven into the clothes I wear,

Isn't it?

Who I've always been,

And who I'll end up being.

I cannot be categorized,

And cataloged,

And understood from a single word.

A phrase that is meant to hurt,

Will never define,

The life I live,

The soul I am,

The dreams I have.

To be boiled down,

From eternal intellegence,

From cosmic miracle,

From wonderous existence,

To a single,

Two-dimensional,

Mortal concept of personhood -

It's the saddest thing to be,

Isn't it?

@ Danceinsilence