Resistance,

Like the chapped nostrils and clogged airways of a sick young boy.

Resistance,

Like that same boy not making his middle school soccer team.

Resistance,

Ah, here we are again.

With the same boy who has multitudes of untapped artistic and athletic ability,

Yet is overlooked because he is rambunctious and not like everyone else.

Resistance,

Now we look to the future and pray to whomever that it doesn’t end up how it seems:

A quiet young teenager doing nothing with his time

With nothing on his mind,

Nothing is what they’ve ground him to,

And so nothing is what he becomes.

I have to stop writing.

I can’t put on paper what I’m thinking.

Because I’m going outside to kick the soccer ball with my brother,

Whose life I must stop from depleting.