Looking Down

I’m angry. I’m angry at the world right now. Where is my place in the world? Who am I? As a woman, what walls are going to be put up around me that I am going to have to bulldoze down? I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the world right now. What rights are going to be taken away from me? Do I even have a say? I’m tired. I’m tired of the world right now. I think of all the sorrow in the world, and feel hopeless. I’m crying. I’m crying because of the world right now. What can I do? What can I say?  I’m staring at the abyss.


This poem is about: 
Our world


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