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Everybody can tell the difference between an optimist and a pessimist. It only takes
one look. But can you really see all the corners of
my mind with that unforgiving glimpse? Did you flip and turn every rock and stone
to take in all that crept behind the shadows and mold?
Everybody can tell the difference between an optimist and a pessimist but nobody cares
to explore the mental maps of their journey. So this is for you
This is for the twists and turns along the way
For the boomerang dreams that always seem a step away
This is for the 11 year-olds in my classroom For their fantasies and realities
Their broken and bruised Arabic and a conscience unconscious to what's happening
This is for the mediocre The average, the marginalized and the overlooked
This is for the elite Too high for the rest of the world to see
Too intimidating to sympathize with Too envied to be appreciated
This is for the beggar at the streetlight before my house
For the scattered pieces of 1-cent chewing gum flattened out by fancy 4-wheel cars
This is for the drop-dead-gorgeous girl next door
For her dull-colored scarf, unflattering outfit and turquoise soul
This is for the sleepless and the restless The junkies, the wanna-bes and the pretentious
The bearded sheikh and the rocker The shaky-kneed brother carrying his sister's
honor This is for yesterday, today and tomorrow
This is for you I take a left turn down the block at sunset
Dodging pieces of bloody, shattered glass, shattered dreams
A man is being questioned on his motives for parking his car in that very spot
Has he no clue of that boy's decision to end his life's worth
Using his car's windshield as an accomplice? Just down the road,
The rattling legs of my city's women dance unceremoniously
Celebrating their daughter's wrapped up scandal They spin and swirl turning his crime into
a dowry She weeps.
The pessimist in me crawls out from under my skin.
I signal right and stop. I take out my pen and start dusting my soul.
All your regrets embrace mine and they waltz out with every drop of ink
I feel better. The road is clear, tempts me to listen to
the wind whistling through the slightly open windows
I speed up and feel like setting our regrets and sorrows free.
I lighten my grip over the paper and I let go as the last orange ribbon in the sky disappears...
replaced by a familiar dance of red and blue. I pull over and take my license and registration
papers out. "Evening Ms! Rushing anywhere?"
The road wasn't that clear after all. He hands me a pink slip. I try to flirt my
way out of the ticket. Not that kind of cop. Just my luck!
As he hops back onto his bike, I assess the damage inflicted on my wallet.
I unfold the slip and my frown fades as I read the latest addition to our constitution
penned by this officer of the law, my speeding ticket reads,
"You've got the right to remain hopeful."