Gone

There is this fear I inherit.
This fear isn’t anything rare.
No, no, no, this fear isn’t special.
No, this fear is living.
I look outside and I see black and white
and I refuse
to think out of the box,
at least that’s what society does.
I have a fear of trusting people,
I have lived a lie over and over
only to be found at the ground once more.
My fear, is to not be normal,
not be myself,
cause it seems nobody sticks around.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace