Bipolar Blues

Bipolar Blues …

Why are these lies by me casually spoken, my mouth torn, bruised and broken.

“I am fine”.

No I am not fine.

I’m as fine as a dung dusted shoe is from a shine.

I’m not fine, I’m lost, between harsh dreams and silent screams.

A cacophony of noise, jarring and bland and dull,

not enough to even feel, left thoroughly numb and null.

At times sinking in a dark empty void, of all hope devoid,

at times, my mania spiralling wildly out, when not even I know, what I am scribbling about.

Hate speech is not Free Speech

When prejudice and hate are spewed forth,

in conventions and meetings and living room lounges,

humanity shudders.

When doctrines of superiority and racism are flung,

in talk-shows and Q & A’s and town halls and pillow talk,

humanity recoils.

Hate speech is not free,

it enslaves minds, infecting countless folk,

hate speech is not free,

it denigrates the dignity of swathes of humanity,

who are still trying to shake off racisms’ tyrannical yoke.

Hate speech is not free.

Hate speech is not free speech.