Talking into shouts

they told me to speak up.
i’m too quiet.
so i raised my voice.
but then they told me
to stop shouting.
i apologized, i learned only to raise
my voice when angry.
they asked me to do something i don’t like,
how else was i suppose to respond?
am i to know to act another way if i don’t know?
i admitted ignorance,
or in the least,
misguidance to my natural center,
what else do you want?
i hope i’m not shouting still.
if so, excuse my ineptitude.
i’m still learning.

Beauty is a bastard

she asked,
am i pretty.
i had no response,
because really,
like the saying goes,
beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
and if that is true,
regardless of the majority,
what i have to say is neither
right nor wrong.
i know that whatever i say,
i’ll be called a bastard.
for the most part,
it’s true, for the exception that
my mother was married before
i was conceived.