I Raise a Hand

I raise a hand whilst others shout;

Taught, not by teachers, that politeness is to be ashamed of.

That I, too, need to speak out of turn within a classroom, otherwise

I am perceived to be too kind and strange,

And kindness was a sin in my generation of ignorance.

Ignorant beings, too careless to acknowledge that

Words stick like glue and sting like wasps,

And that negative spoken words are the things that stay and stand above any kindness we have ever received.

The positive things are hidden in the shadows of negativity,

And perhaps that’s why I’m so low;

Why my worth is seen to be null,

Because all the kindness is kept in the cold

Darkness of a place I never wish to go.