They're those who are screeming to be heard 

And many even dreaming to no longer be abhorred 

Wishing if only someone would stop or pause, to eventually understand them

But, instead of comprehension it became  an understimation 

And foeget it , it's an understatement

Perhaps if they would listen with their eyes and magically gain the interpretation

hidden in human lives instead of ignoring their cries 

Yet hoping to be loved and not simply tolerated 

wanting deeply to express their inner voice shuttered ,in its whispers,

locked down and inflicted .It's long Perservation but not cohesive .

Attempting to connect to their creativity to only find someone that trashed it 

To then Colleccting it and putting adhesive. Yet running and racing

to escape the turmoil that's been abusive. It's endless road had lead to no relationship.

And the lack of affection has led to depravation. Forcing them in a path of abomination

And hoping to desensitize rythms and systems of it's organizations


This poem is about: 
My family
My community
Our world


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