Catching fireflies
A poem on gentrification/cultural appropriation
This poem is inspired by an analogy i read recently on a Tumblr post(which i can’t recollect being sourced), whereby gentrification/cultural appropriation — was likened to catching fireflies in a glass jar. Caught and trapped so as to enjoy the benefits and wonderment of their light illuminating the dark, without any thought that by morning these fireflies will have died from suffocation.
maybe you don’t see the me that is I
perhaps you need not question why
my light still shines
though by morning my body will die
do you ever listen and hear me cry
with every snowflake falling from high
all purple raindrops that leave the sky
their wonderment so clear to your blind eye
yet indifferent to my essence you walk on by
maybe you’re numb and can’t feel my vibe
or deaf to these heart beats of dynamite
can a soul be on fire for all this time
without igniting difficult questions in your mind
you want me to move along with your times
when i just need me to stay alive
