Poem: Humanity

Underneath our skin aren’t we all the same?

Flesh and blood, a beating heart, two kidneys and a brain,

Ligaments and tendons, a larynx and some glands,

All of us are human, the work of the same hand.

 

Don’t we all have livers? And intestines large and small?

Why, the blessing of a bladder is known to one and all.

All of us have tonsils—well, at least we did at birth,

That goes for our appendixes too, for what it’s worth.

 

All our food goes to our stomach, and air goes to our lungs,

Our gallbladder helps us every day, though I’m not sure what it does.

With nostrils we all smell the world, we all hear with our ears,

We all see with our twinkling eyes, we all sit on our rears.

 

Everybody has a belly button, everybody has a spine,

How little thought we give our tongue, though we use it all the time,

Rows of ribs, a set of teeth, kneecaps on our knees,

Underneath our different skin, we’re the same, you and me.

 

So when I see a stranger, I think, That man has veins!

All his blood vessels, compared to mine, are pretty much the same.

A work of art, a miracle—yet fragile as a flower,

That man, like me, has fears and dreams—he probably cries in the shower.

 

And what goes on inside his head? What madness fills his mind?

Does he have no idea what he’s doing nearly all the time?

Does he wonder without answer what he’s supposed to be?

Oh dear God, I hope he does, ’cause then it’s not just me.

 

Underneath our skin aren’t we all the same?

Acting like we’re experts while we figure out the game.

That’s not so bad then, you and me, we must be doing okay,

I’m not the only weirdo here, it’s going to be a good day.

 

© 2019 MILES VENISON ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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