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The Morning After
All I can do is sit here
bewildered by the decisions and
choices that have been made.
Defeated is not how to describe it.
Encumbered by
frustration is how I feel, due to the system society
has.
I, for the first time ever, feel
joyless about the future,
knocked down by society,
limited.
Maybe I am overreacting. Maybe I am
not seeing what
other
people see.
Quite the thought. Actually, though, this thought is
radical. I know I am not
seeing things wrong. I know I am in
the right.
Unexplainable is the way to describe it.
Vulnerable
we now are.
Xenophobia is something
you cannot have and I will not accept it.
Zero is the amount of respect you have in me.
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This poem is in the abecedarian form.