I am here
or maybe there
I don't know or
maybe I do know.
I look at you
or maybe the side of you who doesn't think twice before hurting
before suffocating with hate that loves my insecurities.
I don't look at you
or maybe the side that you think you are always right
but as my hand is raised to show my passion
you turn around
addicted to silence,
Influenced by hatred,
controled by power and injustice
Wishing you could see beyond the spectrum.
As I speak up and tell you my struggles
you go off limits to the wind and whisper
Why do you have an accent?