This poem comes from an observation. With all this craziness going on in the world, it has allowed us all a lot more time at home. Whilst being at home, I have found myself being mindful, being more present in the moment. Observing things – whether this be literal from outside my windows, or through the pixels on my screen. I enjoy people watching, whether it be digital or physical. These past few weeks, I have noticed things I wasn’t present enough to observe in the past – thanks mindfulness. The sheer amount of people pleasing that occurs in front of my eyes is pretty astonishing. People who are chameleons. One person with one group, another with a different group. It got me to wondering if they even know who they are because they’re too busy trying to fit in with the in-crowd. I am not the kind of woman who has ever wanted to be in that crowd. I just socialise and if people find me weird or odd or they just don’t like me, that’s okay. I meet many folk who aren’t my cup of tea. And that is what this poem is about. People pleasing. Ramble over… enjoy.
Sammie. xo
people pleasing
pleases none
not the people
you try to please
or your spirit of sanity
slipping on the cloak
of agreeableness
contradicts your
identity
leaving you a silhouette
on the wall of wondering
who the fuck YOU are
what do YOU like
what are YOUR morals
YOUR core beliefs
Selling your soul
as a semblance of salvation
someone who belongs
in this group chat conversation
inserting yourself into matters
that don’t mind you
– losing the fact
that your mind matters
more than those you
suck up to
a reminder to your brain
you don’t have to be anyone
but you.
you don’t need to pretend
wear the mask of the millions
to satiate the need to be
a part of something
– whilst being the conversational chameleon
you become a part of everyone
which makes you a no one
you, a clone of the echoes
through air and wire
monotonous chants
that belong in the army drill
not in the chords of your voice
be you,
be unapologetic,
don’t sell your essence
to breathe life into yourself
all you’ll end up doing
it’s breathing your smoke
into the lungs of others
giving them the air
that you seek…