Dear ,

Do we not exist?

This is not about you

or me

This is about 

our inability to see

what lies in front 

of our faces

We are but rags 

to be used and thrown away

We are but your holiday

On a hot summer’s day

To be forgotten 

until one day

You may perhaps grace us

with another stay

But do you care?

Do we breathe?

Can I breathe?

Or am I ornamentation?

To show your kindness

Your open mindedness

If mum is the word

Should I scream?

Or should I cower?

Run from you in hopes

of not dying

Then see how I have left

My friends, my family 

Crying

Do I not exist

In that universe between your ears?

Or does my presence irk you?

Am I the stain on your silk shirt?

Your utopia

That will never exist

Must we be so stubborn

That we demand fairness

Can you not hear us?

Have we not spoken?

Can you not hear us yelling,

screaming, crying, praying?

With hope in our hands

With hope leaving our hearts

With faith at the center

But not the cause

Yet it may be belief

Let the religious take a sigh of relief 

Yet they cannot 

take off all that weight

NOT without being 

stopped and searched

before they reach their gate

Could you not take my livelihood?

My natural resources, my land?

Why am I the other?

When I am human like you

When I exist as you do

Once you’ve taken them 

I become the charity you give to

Once I try to leave 

I am an inspiration

And If I do succeed

Will you make a film of my life?

Can I please be

that thing you will never accept

but shower with compliments

So I am just an ornament

To physically represent

your tolerance

Am I not tolerant 

as you yell

That your order is incorrect

As you make noises

I’d like to cancel out

Block from ears

So your derrogatories

never reach these ears

No! Do not “wait for me”

I am only fourteen

Sharing an age with me

will not make me want you

As we beg for help

We do not demand handouts

If am human, If I dare exist

These are human needs

What I ask for is nothing 

extraneous

Your handouts do not make you 

generous

When you hand out drones

We wish you could hold back

Wait, perhaps, for a simple fact

How can I know 

If I will live to see the next hour?

When in fact I cower 

in my home

If I dare read a book

If I dare step outside

I might be labeled a threat

Yet all I hold are books,

a ruler, a pencil

So perhaps, one day

I can abandon this dust

Yet the chances are low 

Of my mother watching me grow

Yet I tell you, 

My education is a MUST

If those who take their’s for granted knew

Not about me

But the inequality

That pervades this existence

Could I question them?

Could I let them know ?

That they live in bliss

In sweet, sweet ignorance

Of simple facts

Of simple questions

Can I not be?

May I be free?

Sincerely,
Me