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Dove Oct 2017
My eyes scan the crowd,
Finally falling on you.
Your face unfamiliar,
But I can't seem to look away.
Completely hypnotized by your features,
I can't help but imagine all the consequences.
Every day I ceaselessly hope,
Hope that this could happen,
And every day I recognize that I must forget you.
You could never care for me,
Not the way that I do for you.
It's hard waiting for something I know will never happen;
But it's especially hard to give up when I know it's everything I want.
Dove Oct 2017
The quiet girl in the corner.
You don’t notice her, but she’s there.
You see her in the hallway,
You smile at her and she smiles back.
You notice just how pretty her smile is,
But what you can’t see is the fear.
The fear she feels when the final bell rings.
The fear she feels when she pulls in the driveway.
The fear she feels when the door opens at six o’clock.
She thinks to herself, “Whose turn is it today?”
The fear she feels when He knocks on her door.
You notice her in class the next day.
You can see the bruises that she hides.
You want to ask if she’s okay,
But she slips out and runs to her next class.
You don’t see her for another week,
But you notice the hospital band and the bruises.
Even still, you smile at her and she smiles back.
You notice just how pretty her smile is today,
But what you can’t see is the pain.
The pain she feels when her father comes home.
The pain she feels watching him beat her mother.
The pain she feels laying down in that bed.
The pain she feels disposing of all the empty bottles.
She doesn’t think he could ever stop.
She only has to try to survive two more years.
She hopes that someone can see the fear and pain in her smile.
She hopes that someone will save her from this hell she lives in.
But all she can do now is hope that tonight is not her night.
Dove Oct 2017
I,
Who have been fighting since birth,
Don’t know what it’s like
To know my worth.
I,
Who have heard about what my people went through,
Don’t know what it’s like
To be praised like they do.
I,
Who sit by and watch them,
Don’t know what it’s like
To be followed by most of them.
I,
Whose ancestors have fought hard,
Don’t know what it’s like
To not be crushed by their words.
They,
Who can’t see past my skin,
Don’t know what it’s like
To not be made out like a sin.
They,
Who don’t have to worry,
Don’t know what it’s like
To have to run away in a hurry.
They,
Who are made out to be the best of them,
Don’t know what it’s like
To struggle like the rest of us.
They,
Who divide us into two kinds,
Don’t know what it’s like
To be ashamed all their lives.
We,
Can come together as one.
We,
Can stop the hatred among.
We,
Don’t have to live like this anymore.
We,
Don’t need to leave others feeling sore.
One country,
One fight,
One people,
One decision.

— The End —