a certain amount of bias

There is a certain amount of bias that I am categorized as being part of. 

I am free to be as long as I do not belong to that niche, that higher sense of being. 

Why do I feel flawed? I do seem to be placed in that category. 

Why am I pigeon holed into that slot that does not belong here or there? 

I am not white nor am I black. I can write or I cannot write. I am good looking or I am not. 

I am friendly or I am not. I am too sensitive or I am not. 

I am very cold or I am not. Am I to extreme? 

I thought that learning to live as a being allowed me to live on this planet. 

Who painted the picture that framed our guidelines? 

Is it I who have moved my thoughts to the extreme or 

am I just blasé, a neutered guard standing in the background. 

I do not know but I do not think that I will change? 

I can never stand on that line perfectly still; I will swirl to one side or the other. 

Pastels and hard tack, paint it simple and stick it into the mind. 

Your mind will always be bombarded if you move into this space. 

You will be put into your place on this planet. 

You will arrive above your feet looking out at your view.