Explanation to Brutus

The fault, Dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.
our stars shine so brightly but who knows what they truly are,
a million miles away from this concrete jungle of
fear and tyranny
false hopes and false witnesses who
take an oath upon the court that
they solemnly swear...
I solemnly swear that I have had enough of this fucking nonsense.
I have had enough of the screams that
rip through my mind but never through my ears and mouth.
I've had enough bad luck for five and
I've had enough midnight despair for everybody.
Lay your faults on me like an anchor and keep me at bay.
If you don't the surge from the storm may
swipe me into the nearest Forever 21
where I will be on display for people to buy unaware
of the price of beauty stitched into the fibers of my being,
slavery is sewn into the fabric of our clothes.
I'm creating an anthem.
This one is for the girls who cover their faces with makeup to hide their
souls from the world.
This song is for the boys who think they are men but deep down they are just
infants.
This is for the ones who want to sing but hate the sound of their voice, for the ones who
paint their nails to cover their flaws the one with cracked broken
lips,
the ones who suffer from the nighttime tormenting fits.
This an anthem of dreamers and believers,
of condescending critics and
their peers
for the poets who are told if it doesn't rhyme it's not a poem and
for all of us who have been knocked on our knees just one time to many
This is for the ones who write because their souls need to be fed,
for the ones who sing for their emotional bank to be kept clean
and for the ones who express who they are
each and everyday.
This is an anthem for all of us, for all of us here
who take a stand against normalcy and society,
who think the -ologies have taken it just a little to far.
This is for the spirits that want to burst out and
for the rib cages who keep them in.
I'm talking about an anthem.
Listen to my anthem and let wildflower vines tangle with your bones.
Let their stems clog your veins and let your soul take
over in the grey area where it meets the body.
When the man up there returns back down I hope you're not in a house or
a building or in anything for that matter than
your naked body stripped down of fabric,
the fibers of your being shown to the world because
we are the beautiful ones.
We are the ones they hate because they love,
the ones that get thrown against walls because we break them down,
the ones who feel a need to sit on rooftops and explore the depths of humanity;
Don't let that wildflower die.
Listen to my anthem.
The fault in ourselves, Dear Brutus, is each other's stars.