Complaining?

They thought I didn’t know better but I did,

Thought I didn’t understand but I did,

So like people they,

Said tell us of your problem make them known to us,

Like saints they wanted listen,

Like fools they did not know,

Don’t complain they harshly spoke out,

You only do complain,

But they told me I had to speak I could not keep it in,

If complaining is its definition I do not see it wrong

People tell me words have meaning but people

Sometimes use them wrong,

Yet I understand them right or wrong so what then is the problem.

The problem isn’t words at all it’s what you do and do not know,

Unless you can convince the world they’ll look you down this way,

To not complain is to not share grief,

It’s to hide your soul inside,

In my understanding that is both good and bad,

Which I’ve heard to be impossible,

Oh the wonderful things you learn from men,

When you know nothing about the world

You said you’d listen, that you’d admire, but am I the only one who reads what I inspire, I suppose that is why I expire.