I’m just another person,
And yet I’m treated like
Some infectious disease?
And were told to be loud and proud.
As I march on the street.
But there’s always that one voice saying
“I need to find peace”.
But then they tell me who I am
Like they know me at all.
Like this singular thing has to strip me to nothing.
But sins…
Because that’s all you see
As you hand me a bible
In which I can’t believe.
Because it doesn’t respect me!
For “Gods” sake it doesn’t even respect itself.
This god you’ll call perfect seems nothing but a
Hypocrite to me.
A man who tells you to be
Because of his superiority.
And if you want to bow down to a god
Because of whatever views I respect that
But don’t tell me who I am as if you really cared.
You just want to ensure yourself a safe trip up the stairs.
But in doing so you’ve ended down.
According to your standards that is.
And it’s sad because I’m the person who ends in hell
Just because of who I love.
And its sad because I’m a better person than you.
If this is the type of actions that your god promotes
I want nowhere near that hate.
Because I’m just following the rainbow
And you’re on the a sinking staircase
So it looks like the truth is.
I’m the one who finds the pot of gold.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Puzzle
PoetryWe're all a little broken and truth is, none of us fit in. But we try and conform, whether you want to believe it or not, we all do. However, day by day we slowly lose ourselves and thats when you feel stuck.
