528hz

My imperfections are victims of perception. My pain is deep. My pain is lost. To others my pain is hate, my pain is violent, my pain abhors, because my pain is ignored. What is your pain? What's your name? Is it yours? Does it mean something good or black? Where are you from? Do people hurt you for it? Do those people look just like me and you? Do they wear uniforms too? Is love in your possession? Would you be willing to share if all I have is pain to give in return? It doesn't matter how you take it. As long as you do, I need you. My pain gives me strength and knowledge, not happiness. I have the strength to adopt and shelter your flaws in my heart where they are accepted as my children. But who will shelter mine?