There are those who have a place,
And those who lost one.
Those who change the world,
And those who are never known by it.
The seen and unseen.
This girl is average.
Like every other.
Manufactured in a child labored factory,
Under horrifying conditions.
Yet she makes the cut, as imperfect as she is.
to live in this imperfect world,
Obsessed with perfection.
Twisted into believing that it is.
Has not enough beauty marks,
And to many zits to pop.
Focuses on high maintenance,
Forgets the festering wound.
Not quite a reject she is.
The bi-product of searching for that ONE with IT.
****** into a fast paced life with a slight limp, and a stuttered lisp.
Unable to catch up.
Yet she hears, and sees,
And knows.
"I was created to fill a space, and yet I have no place."
A clone of every other,
Same microchipped thoughts.
Walking aimlessly on a planet with no room.
Purpose for the purposeless,
Eat or be eaten.
But you can not eat without utensils,
And you weren't packaged with these necessities.
To feed with your hands is primal,
And not accepted.
Live this life until you die,
Unknown and alone.
We all walk the same stories,
Each thinking we are our own.
Some separate, and find a way,
Never looking back.
But for those of us who walk with that limp,
We will never get it fixed.
And in this fast paced "perfect" world,
Where we can't catch up,
We will never find our way.
Live unknown to die alone.
But alas it is our mindset that makes the difference
Is it not?
The challenge is re-coding what we were made into.
Loving ourselves, and fighting for the imperfect world.
Instead of accepting the roles given by society.
That's when we will become someone different.
But it's not easy.
It rarely ever is.