Here at the Bottom of the World

Thu, 10/25/2018 - 21:34 -- Quorlyn

I'm standing at the bottom of the world,

Looking up at the top

Begging,

Pleading,

Crying

For someone to drop a rope

So I can climb up,

Because I'm slowly drowning down here,

Drowning in darkness.

But when I try to climb out

The lucky ones at the top cry out in

Fear, 

Anger,

Revulsion

And throw me back down.

I don't know what they are afriad of.

Though we are different on the outside,

Them with their clean hands and lights hearts,

Me, with my scarred body and haunted eyes.

Beneath all that,

We want the same things.

Home,

Family,

Love. 

I see beneath their surface to the souls that hunger for the same as I.

We both fight for what we want,

What we crave.

Yet I don't think we are supposed to be fighting each other.

I'm still standing at the bottom of the world

Looking up at a life that is just out of reach,

Wishing someone would lower a rope. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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