The odd color out.

Born in South Africa, 16:00h on a Thursday afternoon 1987.

Who would have thought.

Twenty eight years has passed.

Years in which i have learned that in a world ruled by appearance i would never belong.

Things has changed, Yes!

But to me it has only switched color.

Whether I' wrong could possibly be proven,

But i'm seen as a child, I wouldn't know.

All I know is that i have seen too much, I have heard too much.

Which angers me and leaves me shaken.

I'm told to shut up. Its not my war.

But I feel I need to speak.

Even though I know no-one would listen.

People say "leave it alone"

Accused of being to "different" and "too-outspoken"

perhaps "too wise for my age"

Only because I would not shut up.

I would not close my eyes.

I would not be afraid.

But all that doesn't matter now.

Maybe I could reach the top.

But my fate has already been decided.

I'm stuck in the middle. 
The odd color out.

Reviews

[Priscilla]

Yeah somethings just needs to be said.

[Caladoscope]

Wow. Such heartfelt, gorgeous, brave writing. Loved this piece. You're a wonderful writer with such poignant insight. Thanks for this. Well done!