November 20, 2009
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Simmering,Black, scorned with the life that she has been destined to possess.
Something to complain about,
But something to be so proud of.She sits there, alone, waiting for someone to judge her.
Hoping someone is listening.
Wanting to fill a spot somewhere around here.
Wanting acceptance, fearing rejection.
It needs to end.
She wants to stand tall with her head held high where no one can touch her.
She doesn't.
She feels trapped, isolated, restricted from reaching out and showing her true colors.
Orane, yellow, Purple, Pink, colors of the beautiful flower she once saw years ago.
Lately these flowers seem wilted and dull.
Let them thrive. Let them be what they once were.
Its desirable.But fearful.
She wants a chance to step out and put on her best shoes and dance the night away with everyone watching. She will get her chance. When? Soon I hope.
She wants to feel beautiful, looking into the mirror and putting on a mask so people can see what they want to see. Without it she feels ugly. Uncomfortable in her own skin, but so quick to judge to think about putting others down in her own mind to make herself feel satisfied.
It's not the truth, she stands there feeling black and white while everyone is magnificently colorful. Or so it seems. Everyone has a secret. No one dares to tell. Afraid just the same as she, me.
I am she,she is me.
Lets change the world.
Lets get everyone to speak.
Become one, as the human race.
((I'm sorry))
((**No Longer Anonymous))

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