They vs. Those...

What they say supposedly doesn't matter until it becomes the trusted source of my reputation
My own actions become secondary to the chatter invented to give meaning to what I do
I hear they're made up meanings and I raise my glass to they're incredulous interest
Let's toast to what they believe:
When I give, it's solely to ensure I'm owed later on
When I love, it's to fill a void left open due to some past tragedy that eludes even me
When I hurt, I'm reaping the hurt that I caused someone else
When I cry, it's so the onlookers sight becomes so magically blurred that they see me in a completely different light
When I dance, it's to ensure that I own the spotlight
When I sing, I only mean to drown out the voices around me
I extend frienship only to escape my pending loneliness
I work hard because my ego needs the stroking and the accolades give me self-worth
Who am I to question the meaning they've determined for my actions
Who are they to determine when those meanings are real
I'm happy to say nothing, but I rarely do

All who have the ability to manipulate don't
And soft-spoken although often translated to introvert, sometimes just means sneaky
Just because you are good doesn't mean you've been good
Statements I know to be true, but bore myself stiff deciding who and what they define
I don't want to be a they, applying imageries to the actions around me
Intent is easy to judge, right they?

I've learned to give only when I absolutely want to, because when they don't appreciate, reciprocate or acknowledge - I don't regret
Perfection is not my claim, not even a consistent goal, yet it's the standard to which they hold me
I have a vague indifference to the hushed whispers of they
A joy that my growth has made they irrelevant

Then there are those
Those who appreciate my love with all it's faults
Those who know my name and give it a meaning of strength
Those who accept my idiocyncracies and faults as merely proof of my humanity
And take my kindness for kindness, and weakness for weakness
Those understand that I would never claim perfection, those know because those were there when I fell, those held my hand
And those see altruism in my tears, and victories in my laugh
Those don't label my mood or question my truths
Those know me, they never will...

So while still chuckling at some of the leaked chatter that they leave in my trail
I run toward those who have taught me acceptance no matter the years, distance or difference between us...