Who Am I?

Who am I?

Why I am different?

Specially unique

Never under estimated

Always expected perfection from me

But can’t they see it is showing

Through the cracks of my soul

That I am not perfect,

That I can only handle so much

That I am just a human

With only so much strength

Left inside for

I am only me

The one every treats different

Like I am some type of miraculous event

That happened so many years ago

Look at me, can’t you see, the pressure is building

Upon my shoulders to strive my best

At all your wants & needs

I am about to crack, go colliding, spinning out of control

Please somebody release my soul

Just tell me why you treat me so

I wonder is it because I am not of part of you?

Why I am so different, my hair color is off, my eyes are not the same,

Does anyone know who I am?

Does anyone even care?

Why can’t you just tell me?

Honesty is the core to life’s injustice

But there you are treating me

Like I am some angel in disguise

As if I was not made from you.

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Manchester, UK

ow To begin with I usually do not write or discuss world events but I feel I need to speak out for the victims and their families of Manchester. I am shocked and sadden by the actions of ISIS and the bombing of innocent children and others in attendance at the Ariana Grande concert. My thoughts and prayers are with you all as we mourn the loss as a world of one.

The loss

The loss of a child, is the worst pain
It shatters lives, it ruins the soul
We have no answers, to the question
“Why”

We have no explanation, to the reason behind it all
We have no one to turn to, even our loved ones
Sometimes do not understand, our pain

We try to look to God for relief
But sometimes, we feel as if
God doesn’t even understand
Nothing can take the pain away
Nothing can stop the tears
Nothing can feel the emptiness
Once a child is chosen

All we have left is to live
For all we have, in our hearts are memories
And knowing that the precious child is an
Angel with God
And someday
We will all get to hold
Them once again.

The Victims of Manchester, UK

I don’t know your names
Nor what you look like,
I don’t know your favorite color,
Nor your favorite meal,
I don’t know when your birthday was,
Was it spring or maybe fall,
I don’t know your age,
Nor the color of your eyes,
I don’t know the color of your skin,
Its what was inside, that counts,
I don’t know your religion,
For I wouldn’t care anyways,
I don’t know if you died alone,
Or did someone hold your hand,
I don’t know if you will ever overcome,
Such tragedy, so unfair cruelty…

But I do know,
That you will forever
Be in my thoughts
Deep within my heart
As I lay my head down to sleep tonight
I say a little prayer for you.