Belonging

I no longer feel safe here.

I try not to cry,
But I choke on my tears
Trying to be brave.
I want to go home,
But home is no longer that which I remembered it to be.

Why is it that I feel like I am an outsider in someone else’s land?
It is a disgrace
That as humans we want a safe space
But do not want others to have such a place
Based on race,
The colour of their face
Or the trace
That they may be different
In another way.

Why do we not embrace
Woman or man,
Gay or straight,
Rich or poor?
We use this as a basis
For our justification that is profoundly unjust.

Why is it that even then we are sometimes made to feel like we do not belong?
I am made to feel like a woman in a man’s world,
Shamed for not obeying, second-class, objectified for worth.
But this is all of our earth
So why are we defined by the place of our birth
Or the sex we are given?
Why are we driven to believe that we must fit a mould that does not exist?

What’s yours is mine,
And what’s mine is mine.
There is a fine line between when
We are happy to share and when
We become selfish in despair.
How strange it is that
We cry for strangers
And the tears we weep are drops in the ocean
Of the danger that they drown in?

They wait in line,
We decline
Responsibility.
We may be like ships that pass in the night,
But this is all of our world
What right do we have to say no
When we are willing to take but not to show
Compassion?

I want to go home,
I want to feel safe.
But I can’t.

By Anonymous

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