Demotion
I can’t be an artist as a scholar.
I will turn the wrong heads with my cussing
And repeated anger at a society that refuses to change.
Headway isn’t made when the artist
And scholar are flawed,
Don’t say the f-word
Or S, or B, or the list could go on
Because Scholars can’t do that,
The conveyer belt stops before the words can
Be spoon-fed to the masses

I am a scholar, joining the ranks of the elite
Soon to be a college graduate where certain things
Are expected, like the 8-fold path
"right speech, right action"

How can men define right action and right speech?
Men are flawed when born according to many schools of thought
So by nature we aren’t qualified to make the rules to live by

I shun the idea that a scholar isn’t human
And doesn’t feel human emotion,anger, lust, greed,
Although by nature I am an artist by night,
And a professional by day,
Hiding in my inner sanctum until the moon rises high
In the sky
And I might be able to be true, and be free from the societal definations
Of who I should be, but refuse to be,
Because dammit I am me!

My job shouldn’t be taken away because I choose to use the f-word in a poem
Publish it,
And then smile
My station in life doesn’t depends on my language except in the word of red tape and lies.
I am who I am,
Do not take that one thing away from me...
As an artist, my demotion in professional society is imminent,
My success is not dependant.
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