By Aksa Shafi
There will always be those who don't see
The depths of our souls, the complexity
Of our hearts, our minds, our inner strife,
They'll judge us by surface, by fleeting life.
Their eyes will glaze over; their ears will shut
As we try to explain, to share our gut,
The whispers of our dreams, the screams of our pain
Will fall on deaf ears, like autumn's rain.
They'll try to fit us into boxes, into molds,
Into categories that suffocate our souls,
They'll reduce our essence to simple labels and tags
And ignore the intricate beauty of our inner flags.
But we mustn't let their blindness define
Our worth, our truth, our hearts' rhyme,
For in the tapestry of life, we're a unique thread,
Interwoven with others, yet distinct in our spread.
There will always be those who don't understand
The language of our souls, the maps of our land,
But we'll find our tribe, our kindred spirits true,
Who'll see us, hear us, and know us anew.
They'll speak our language; they'll hear our heart,
They'll see the beauty in our every part,
They'll celebrate our quirks, our differences, our flair,
And help us weave our threads into a richer tapestry to share.
So let's not waste our breath, our words, our tears
On those who don't get us, who don't calm our fears,
Let's rise above; let's shine our light,
And find solace in those who see us, who ignite.
For in the end, it's not their understanding we need,
But our own self-love, our own hearts' creed,
To know we're enough, we're worthy, we're bright,
And our uniqueness is our greatest light.
Let's focus on our own journey, our own path,
Let's nurture our own growth, our own aftermath,
Let's celebrate our strengths, our passions, our fire,
And let our authenticity be our heart's greatest desire.
For when we embrace our true selves, our hearts sing,
Our souls take flight; our spirits start to swing,
We'll find our place in the world, our tribe, our crew,
And our invisible threads will weave a tapestry anew.
By Aksa Shafi
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