For My People
I wrote this poem in my junior year of high school in creative writing class.
For my people, the ones who have to swallow a pill
Everyday to face the harsh pain of reality
We're too silent or too loud for those around us
We're told to be silent and assimilate
For my people, who find comfort in the little things
Like a simple snowfall or the ambiance of rain
Or emerging ourselves into another character's life
Because sometimes that's the only way to escape our own
For my people, we rejoice over small accomplishments
Not crying in three days, doing 2/16 homework assignments
Waking up when all we want to do is sleep forever
But were overshadowed by those doing actual things
For my people, we always knew something wasn't right
The fact that our brains doubted we needed to be helped
Is proof of our anxieties, our need to not be different
We find ourselves silently suffering for torture like years to come
For my people, late nights and no mornings, we can't face the day,
Depression told us to punish ourselves, anxiety immediately regrets it
What if someone sees it, will it be worse if they say something or stay silent
A million thoughts and excuses run through our overactive minds
For my people, constantly warring against ourselves
Saying we’ll kill ourselves tonight, by morning we say we’ll change
The night comes again but we can't bring ourselves to do it
We feel too weak or too selfish, convinced others have it worse
For my people, whose family didn't notice a difference
How silent you've gotten, how much you're not yourself
And you always wonder how quick they'd get over your death
If they'd feel a burden being lifted when you jumped
About the Creator
Paolo Affinito
I am an existence that has not yet discovered its ethereal potential
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.