I was made different,
Same brain, same race,
But I was different.
Same smile, same face,
But something was different.
I could never speak in sibilance,
Stuttering stressed sounds and somehow,
Learning to live with who I am now.

My parents told me to value honour and integrity,
But come eighteen years of age, they came begging me,
To fall on my knees and kiss the *** of my overlords,
Between finding me and growing up, I lost my vocal chords,
Never able to project my thoughts,
Because I was to afraid of projecting a rejected side of society,
I wasn't really being me.

I was like a car losing its tyres almost edging its rims,
I had all control over my working limbs,
But I never had a control of my voice and it seems,
That somehow as I grew up I started to fit into seams,
Never the thread to stick out from the patterns,
Always be the one to stand back and watch the shattered,
Picking up the pieces of their lives scattered.

I watched people fall like flies and flies fall like pollen,
And from all of it, the message that I have always gotten,
'Humans will never be perfect',
But it doesn't matter, perfection is mere mortals exaggeration,
Of what it really means to be you.
We live under the same sky, same blue,
So being perfect, simply means being you,
Able to voice your words and keep true,
That the message you're upholding is alive, because of you.
**You are you,
And you are perfect.