Poems about gender
Our poor forsaken generation
Focus...focus....focus
Man if I don't blow this it's like I can't focus
And suddenly it hits me like a punch in the gut
that I can BE all these beautiful things I read:
Where could I get sympathy?
For my nationality?
For my Race?
My Hair color?
Eye Color?
My religion?
I was judged before I even came out my mother's womb
I was counted out and scorned despite my inner beauty
The country rolls on to its Republic Day,
Its youth feels the pinch, the pain,
Screams, cries, shouts and the anger,
Well, it seems we have a bit of a problem
We've stuck ourselves in the exact same situation
Who am I with no filter. with no color. with no sex gender, or orientaion. with no reglious affiliantions. with no makeup.