I am who I am

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I am who I am .

An individual with a question to a world.

A question that comes with a furious curiosity.

What are we exactly?

Are we the individuals of the “future”,

or individuals that are recklessly mass-produced.

“Mass-produced?” people may ask.

Tilting their head with innocent interest.

While I give a detached frown

and ponder around my thoughts some more.

“Ignorance” was an answer I came up with,

as I roll my fists into a frustrated ball.

Individuals like myself,

are different in every shape and form.

From tall to stubby,

friendly and hostile,

generous and stingy.

Though we are unique,

do we still catch the attention span of an average human?

I bit my lip as tears swell in my eyes,

as I uttered another question.

“Are we not seen because we don't want to be seen?”

This crooked injustice,

a cruel fate that individuals are tied to,

a fate of not wanting to be seen or recognized.

“Why?” I asked to myself.

My eyes twitched and my fingers curl as I came to a realization,

we aren't like anyone else.

We aren't like the mass-produced,

we are the individuals.

In order to become like everyone else,

we would have to be mass-produced,

and have our individuality be thrown away,

in order to be accepted in this god-forsaken society.

I am who I am.

A question that comes with a furious curiosity.

What are we exactly?

Are we the individuals of the “future”,

or individuals that are recklessly mass-produced.

 

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