Under the skin, there is a human, but in view of the public, they see a mutant, he's not aware of anything, he's trying hard to convince, that he's not out to harm them, that he's not as scum, as they make him out as, he starts to feel glum, they won't be friendly, they act deadly, they want him dead, then suddenly his skin once again begins to shred.
He's portrayed as a monster, one that they long to slaughter, he can't look in the mirror, he's ashamed of the horror.
He screams, his lungs burst, he begins to revisit his dreams, he believes his life's cursed, someone comes strolling by, looks him in the eye, they come in and console him, the monster who everyone said was grim.
Inside this monster, his feelings open up, he begins to feel stronger, he realises that this wasn't a setup, and that person has come along to help make him see his soul inside, so that he no longer feels he has to hide, from the pain that has been torturing him, just because the public thought he was grim, in reality he's just a human, but because of how he looked, everybody thought he was a mutant, and was always overlooked.
YOU ARE READING
This Is Your Voice
PoetryA selection of poetry, that I have written from the last three years. An anthology of my poems from the last three years, which I have put together, for everyone to enjoy, about survival, love, heartbreak and pain, and my own experiences in life. ...
