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

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