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Rated: E · Poetry · Cultural · #2023528
This is about ones who have been treated unfairly throughout their lifetime.
Barefoot, this road is made of sorrow.
I can feel the sickness within me.
My dignity, left behind in my footprints.
Frightened, I stand.

My clothes, ripped from exposure,
My strength seeping from these scars.
My memories relentlessly beating me.
Tortured, I stand.

No hope lays infront of me,
No education uplifts me,
No family comforts me.
Isolated, I stand.

My eyes are screaming with misery,
My mouth quivering with misfortune,
My fingers trembling with desperation.
Destitute, I stand.

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