Mon, 06/17/2019 - 18:50 -- SThind

In my tiny bubble. It has a shape.

i hated who i hated. i didn't get hate.

The outside, that i couldn't feel.

Was right there, and very real.

i talked to them, and, to my surprise?

Them and I had the same eyes

But theres were sad, and mine were alive

I took a step, gingerly, towards the outside,

because I felt the need to look closer,

They smiled at me, which gave me much shock,

but I realized that I had to remain where I was,

as the others desperately needed me,

And I was far too big for my bubble now.

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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