My Control

How can you smile

knowing that peopl are dying

because they are sick of trying

to appease the critics,

to appease the man,

to appease the woman,

and those in command.

They are taking their lives

because they have none for their own

because the world is taking their identity

because the world is taking their joy

because the world is taking everything that they know,

I smile falsely at them

wishing for something more

but it keeps scrutiny away from my door.

I laugh gently,

hiding what is my pain,

so nobody can claim it is all in my head.

So I am in contol of my life

and my death.

I play by the rules of the world

but I am making my own,

hidding everything in a way so that I am in control.

This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world


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