I HAD AN URGE TO LISTEN TO SOME MUSIC.
I pulled a Beethoven CD from the cabinet,
But a voice inside my head whispered:

                             "No!  Basie!

I WAS HUNGRY AND WANTED TO FIX SOME DINNER.
I looked in the cookbook for the coq au vin recipe,
But a voice inside my head whispered:

                           "No!  Collards!

I WAS IN THE MOOD FOR A GOOD BOOK.
I went to the bookstore to get one by Bronte,
But a voice inside my head whispered:

                            "No!  Baldwin!

I wish I could silence the whispers inside my head.
I wish the whispers wouldn't make me choose.
I wish the whispers didn't make me feel guilty.
I wish the whispers would let me have both

Beethoven and Basie,
        Coq au vin and Collards.
               Bronte and Baldwin.

I wish the whispers didn't hiss
       "Sellout"
When I sometimes rebel and choose
        Beethoven over Basie,
               Coq au vin over Collards,
                       Bronte over Baldwin.

Hey you!  Whispers!  Stop hissing like that!

Your hissing puts me in a trench between two worlds.
Your hissing makes me not belong to either world.
Your hissing makes me feel like a renegade,
                       a nomad,
                         a traitor,
                            a misfit.

I'm not a renegade, a nomad, a traitor or a misfit.

I'm just someone who will (on some days) prefer
               Beethoven over Basie,
                      Coq au vin over Collards,
                             Bronte over Baldwin.

It's as simple as that.