Social Status Effect

Miscommunication, is fabrication of reality When actually it’s a matter of perspective. She was a standout, with a name similar to yours With pure intentions, painful convictions but losing to her own dispositions. Deprivation of her moral mentality structure crumbles Caused by misadventures of her past life Blighted with horrific memories Tragic upsets that shake the very foundation of her soul. Lead by the goals of our society To keep the mindset that anxiety… controls you But who understands? Those who demand you to over expand your capability of toleration to your demons? Pharmaceutical apprehension to be your companion in this never-ending struggle? School systems have programs That program you to say Everything’s okay Just get over it and move on But you see there is no off switch to pain No preset to reset her experiences The hand that she felt A seatbelt that would strap her into a horrible roller-coaster ride of misery You see, there is something wrong with this picture Its missing something Someone… You? Maybe everything that she needed was a frosty before third period on a March afternoon Or maybe, an almond milk macchiato on finals week at Delos across the street Or even an acquainted silence of tears while she spilled her heart on the dashboard of your car. She needed a home No not a bed to sleep in with complimentary breakfast No! A resting place That’s laced with people who care to hear the response of how her day is, Or how’s she’s doing in school Or why is there scars on her… Arms to be held in when she needs comfort. Sometimes we’re the only savior that people see, But what saviors are we when we’re preoccupied with our own self-indulgence of social media. Temporary satisfactions from addictions ever going, Distracting us from having true meaning in life. We need to make a stand, To withstand this generational curse. Of carelessness of peoples pain, But first, let me update my status.