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Cat Fiske Apr 2015
I,
Struggle,
Day to day,
To,
Fit in,
Eat publicly,
Pay attention,
Keep my focus,
Live in this house,
Live at all,
But,

My,
Friends,
Struggle,
To,
Respect,
That I am another intellect,
That I want to be correct,
But,
They tell me,
Its something I'll never be,
And too see,
I''m a defect.  
Then,

My,
Teacher,
Struggles
To,
Understand,
Lunch is used by me,
to get my extra help I need,
That I'm not Bullshitting,
When I say I want to,
Succeed,
So Lunch,
Is used by me,
To bleed,
While you sit and read,
Claiming I miss read,
into what you just said,
So then,

My,
Mom,                          
And my,
                              Daddy,
Fight,
Hating everything wrong with me,
A daughter who couldn't of been born,
Paralyzed physically,
But Mentally,
Is causing them both to verbally,
Abuse each other consistently,
But,

We,
Still,
Go to Church every Sunday,
As a Family,
And Believe in a God,
Not Everyone does,
Because not everyone can See what he has done,
And then we come Home,
And the fights Continue,
And no one wants to be Home,
Because like God,
People don't want to Believe,
In a Thing they cannot See,
So,

I'll,
Have to,
Keep going on,
Letting the world kick me when I'm Down,
Because I've been down forever,
And no one wants me,
To come up,
just enough,
To feel strong and safe,
in this world of hate,
where our perception,
out weighs the truth,
The reality,
and the well being,
Of innocent,
little girls,
Who'd rather die most days,
then live,
because of a lack of,
perception.
This is just a little poem about perception, that ties into my life.

— The End —