I talk, I scream but it seems so in vain.
I'm here but I'm not, you look but you do but you don't see.
I'm an outcast only seen when needed to be seen.
I blend in your world, mine is no more.
Rejection is so often it's the air I breathe.
I'm depanded on your lies and hypocrisy
using me as a scapegoat for their faults.
Blame me, for I am not real, not in your world.
Existance is a luxury, but on who's account?.
Account? Have i not paid enough for those pretentious?.
For those blantaly dismissing my existance to some scientific jargon.
I know life isn't a bed of roses
But resistance is futile.
As my world has been crushed by the stumbling ignorance of those visible.
If they are visible, what am I?.
Cellophane?, A spirit?, A ghost? A whisp of air hovering above your world?.
Invisible I am , you look right through me.
RONNY MADONSELA, LIZE-MARI BREYTENBACH