We are all mutants, you and I,
Mutated related syncopated slightly jaded,
So different in the way we cry,
outraged , and caged, happy or faded.
Some of us have wings,
Some are smaller things,
Some are caged birds who sings,
Some with spots and some with rings.
Darwinian dreams, we creatures who stand,
Spicy or bland alone together we band,
How we help out or sit on our hand,
Fly with joy or crawl in the sand.
Some of us with words demanding to be written,
Some of us rough and some like a kitten,
Some of you in love while others not smitten,
Some of us are fools while others once bitten.
Brightly feathered or colored with ink on our skin,
Some of us victors some victims of sin,
The joy of us all so much to take in,
The wondrous of creatures oh where to begin?
The noise that we make take laughter that’s fake,
Or the moans that are soft vs one when we shake,
The greetings “oh hi” to “How’s it hanging Jake!”
While internally our voices say how much more can I take?
There are a few monsters, some found in our beds,
Some parents some teachers, some live in our heads,
Some bald, some long hairs, some wear ties, some wear dreads,
Some take your breathe and others left many dead.
But life givers we have who make music and poets,
Heal wounds with kind words and good feelings they show it,
There are those who speak for the voiceless they orate,
Others wear t-shirts, tank tops, or pussy hats and enjoy it.
All of humanity on one big display,
To look at each one would take more than a day,
Or a week or month or a lifetime away,
See them working or not, see them at play.
So alike so very different, those teachers and students,
Beginners and experts at dance and small movements,
It would be hard to say how to make more improvements,
And forget not this fact: We are all just mutants.
