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…

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