Different This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By
If you were blind you'd hear my voice and call me musical.
You'd touch my hand and call me clean.
You'd feel my heart and call me friend.



Yet you can see.



And just because your eyes see my colors,



I am



no longer








musical.
No longer clean.
No longer called friend.
You hear my voice and call me loud.
You touch my hand and call me filthy.



you crush my heart



and call me different.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback