How much abuse faced
By the divergent kids
Not even traced
Back to the inhuman grids

The thought of difference, frightening
Coursing by the lust for control
Deforming them by touching
The most vulnerable parts of the soul

The title vulnerable graffitied over valuable
Innovation of this generation unbound
Not differently-abled, but disabled
Abuse goes on, the kids are not found

i bore at this empty white sheet
waiting to acquire my words.
for i wish to elaborate that night i spent under the stars;
so i close my eyes to recall that vision.
but, i cant.

all i see is this black void.
"look into your mind!"
but, i cant.

you told me to shut my eyes, to see the beach.
to close my eyes;
to imagine a world like that.
to cover my vision with my eyelid.
to sense that night again.
but, i cant.

for,
when i 'look' back to that night;
i pick up the sheer screeching of the crickets
while we counted the stars.
i looked at you and smiled;
locked in your eyes for a while.
surely,
i mustve seen something magnificent in them.
now, you looked back and laughed;
and i had the urge to greet your lips with mine.
surely,
i mustve seen something lovable in them.

i know,
you told me you relive those moments much too often,
you compare it to your favorite episode from the office.
but, i cant.