once upon a time
when all the poems rhymed
there was a porridge called normal

for breakfast folks imbibed
as poets verses scribed
and days unfolded generally quite formal

by lunch there was a yearning
but at jobs the folks were earning
the cash they would need to keep up with the Joneses

for the afternoon the clocks kept ticking
the minutes passed with predictable flicking
for the jobs they had, they often bemoaned it

once home the drinks were poured
they all imbibed for they were bored
the certainty of normal lacked inspiration and diversity

until for breakfast they did plan
along with poems that were banned
some porridge mixed with flax, creativity, and hyperbole

a bit of critical thinking in the mix
colonial problems needing to be fixed
who defines what’s normal began to change

deconstruction was enabled
flourishing for all was never tabled
inclusion for all expanded normal’s range

but now we talk new normal
which means we are standing at a portal
where humanity values all who are self-aware

and the poems, like the breakfasts
are a bit challenging with their fresh twists
but now normal means transforming, and not stuck there