Reality

If what we know

Has been passed down

And all we know 

Is what we have seen

And beauty is 

Only made from 

What we think

It should be

Then how 

Can there 

Ever

Be such a thing

As reality

Or normality

 

We are all

Intricately designed

Each Unique 

In a different way

This is a fact

Then why 

Would we 

Ever

Want to make 

Everyone the same?

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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