America

 

This is America where we are supposed to be free,

This is America where we choose who we want to be.

But if being who you are leaves you with scars and broken arms,

Is it really that worth it to be free?

 

Because in America Freedom comes with a cost.

It rips you and tears you it makes you feels lost.

For they all say things that can never be unsaid.

But the worst of it all is them wishing you were dead.

 

They find you

They chase you 

They hunt you down.

 

They kick you

They beat you

They knock you to the ground.

 

Because this America where we have the right to be free,

But is it really worth it,

If who I say is me I can’t be.

 

In America we are judged.

In America we hold a grudge

Against people who are different than us just because we think it’s fun.

 

Just because I like books and you like sports,

And you wear skirts and I wear shorts,

Does not mean you get to critique every move I make.

 

School is supposed to be a place where we get a right to an education.

Not to be forced into separation

By your peers and friends who move into clicks and to groups.

School is supposed to be a place where you thrive,

Not a battleground in which you hope to survive.

 

I walk the halls everyday looking over my shoulder,

The burden I carry is a boulder,

As I look around to wonder who my next tormenter might be.

All because I chose to be me.

I did this,

I felt this,

I lived this for years.

And you still come up to me waiting for the tears 

To fall time and time again.

I just wonder if this will ever end.

 

But the fact is it won’t without someone standing up,

Telling you what is what,

And when enough is enough.

You are a bully, and that’s all you’ll ever be.

YOU are a bully who tried to stop me from being me.

So I am here to tell you that I’m going to turn the other cheek,

Because I am no longer the victim that you seek.

I am strong, confident, and brave

I’m not that weak feeble girl that needs to be saved

I am ME. 

And that’s all I’ll ever need to be.

 

Because in America we have the right to be free,

Though that does not mean that freedom comes easy.

We have to work for it

Fight for what is right.

Only then the darkness clears and we finally see light.

 

So yes this is America, where we are judged and where we hold a grudge,

But this is America where we choose who we want to be.

This America where we have the right to be free.

This is America where if I see someone in a corner of a room

Being tormented and tortured, as I once was,

I will lend a hand.

Because this is America, 

 

And this is where I stand.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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