Wearing two different shoes

Wearing two different shoes.
Showing two different hues.
I dance like never before,
And explore everything to the core.

I dance and dance
Till my feet ache.
But they throw just a glance,
Oblivious to the beauty I make.

They deem me mad and insane,
That I wore two different shoes,
That I took the lonesome lane.
And pitied that I was just not sane.

I wish they would feel my music.
Not judge me for the shoes’ I picked.
But I don’t care about other’s opinions,
For this is going to be my day,
And I am going to have it my way.

Even if doesn’t make sense.
Even if I get assaulted as a freak.
At least I came out of my restrictive fence.
And dared to see what I seek.

I dance to my beat,
But they only look at my feet.
To them, my music reek
And I am no more than a freak.

To them it is a treason
That I wear two different shoes.
But just like every season
I portray the miscellaneous mysterious hues.

I dance and dance
Till my feet ache.
Never wanting to stop
The music I make.

Tiptoeing my way around life,
Juggling with the many roles I act.
What’s apt for one feet,
might not be the same for other.
Coping with these many facets,
Yet surviving through life.
That’s how I would write,
the preface of my autobiography.

There are two ways to live your life,
one is practical and the other is skive,
put on your dancing shoes
to shoo away your blues,
and tighten up the laces,
to get ahead in all races…

We both look odd, You & me
With you tied to laces
And I knotted at heels.
But with all our differences
We love each other & stick
Suffering by poliomyelitis
Too at times can be bliss.

The feminine and masculine
combined as one,
creates the perfect dance
of the two souls becoming one.

Struck by oddity
Strung by similarity
I cross dress both my feet
In styles of various streaks.
This would help them sow & grow
Their individual traits & identity
In a world of blank faces
Where folks lose their art to live.