Religious
I used to always be told that I was beyond lucky
that I was raised in this religious home
but now I don't feel lucky at all.
Constricted,
hidden,
Disturbed
By the cozy walls with pictures saying I know whom my
redeemer is.
It''s not like I don't believe.
I just don't practice the way they want me to.
That's all.
This poem is about:
Me
My family