implied

We're held back and

stopped by the reds but go

forth when we're beckoned

by the green.

What have we become?

Where caution tape decides

where we can and cannot

go.

The velvet ropes hold me

back,

they hold us apart. Since

when do these numbers

control? The color drains

from our faces but no one

notices.

We're barcodes,

conformity at its finest.

Where we're driven by

censorship,

and the yellows don't

come to slow down

the process.

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741