For the Child, I speak

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
We were children once. We should never forget that.

Submitted: April 02, 2017

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Submitted: April 02, 2017



You can not make me what is already you.

My grass is not green

My sky is not blue.


My rain is not see through

You can not make me believe what has been forced fed to you.


My heart is not red, my trees do not grow up, 

my clouds are not white

my fortune is not luck.


My hair does not belong to a girl or a boy

and my gender is not my favorite toy.


My skin is not my voice,

my name was not my choice


My joy is not your laughter

My happiness is not your happily ever after.


My tears are not your pain

My injury is not your cane.


My sun is not yellow, my greeting are not always "hello."

My lyrics are not your muse


you are not me and I am not you.


My minutes and seconds do not count in your hours.

my breath is not your life

for my life is not yours. 

© Copyright 2019 Ebony Quill Hand. All rights reserved.

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