#noncomformist

Anxiety It burns like a poison An illness known of Yet still unknown

Some fall under a label of shame Too many are told that they are not actually in pain

Panic & fear no only reign supreme They are also emboldened by the ignorant cheer f the “fine”

Words pound my flesh Like an acid rain the size of a Kansas hail storm

Being both Burnt alive & reborn

A baptism of panic As air rushes from my lungs Only to be replaced By lonely dizziness

The thunder of everyone else Rolls over me Blocking out the sound Of my screaming for help

There is no help Only drowning & sorrow There is sorrow Because there will be a tomorrow Another day to live in An abandoned hell-hole Which we call “The Norm’ While begging to be strained by the storm

Plastic people Walking like ready made solders Cutting with dull, plastic knives Of injustice While good men die fighting For the right of the hand made men Those that do not come ready made In a tin

One scar Many faces formed from the same skin While the armored attempts to force the unique To drown, or die trying

The plastic people Laugh at our crying They laugh at our trying To survive They laugh at the fact that we value others lives

They laugh & they laugh Threatening to define us with the din

All while we fight to keep “The Norm” form being able to Sink in