When I call out,

And ask for help

Nothing seems to come.

Just my echoing voice

Bounces back, leaving me alone.

The echo comes in your criticism,

And what you point out as wrong,

Stop telling me that I'm fine!

I don't want your sympathy!

I want to be heard!


I scream it at the top of my lung,

That I am not okay!

I get that I have no reason,

But what can you say?

Rather than helping me 

What you do is make it worse.

So my voice, my own questions

Come back in an empty echo.


Do you even care?

Do you really know?

Then why am I here

Sitting alone with this echo?

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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