I, unseen

I wonder how many unsuspected,

blank expressions

I have filled;

in the background of a memory

held dear to a stranger

that I never gave my assent to.

A stranger alone I have traveled in glee

so please don't project some shameful pity,

you may pass along and make judgement

for I am not one who staggers in my delicate substance. 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world

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