I just can’t seem to fit the mold.
My tongue speaks something foreign to my kind.
My attire is alien to the eyes.
My entire thought process is an enigma.
Just being me is considered blasphemy.
I can’t seem to fit the mold.
I am a fly among dragons… at least that’s how they see me; I know I am a blazing phoenix far above you.
Constantly do people raise their sword-like tongues to my throat but my flesh is never marred; my pride can never be cut by such a dull blade.
I will leave you all to fester in your own ignorance, the air here is too toxic for the likes of me.
So long my blind brothers and sisters maybe one day you too may open your eyes and bask in the sun with pride.
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All things have color but in the end it will all fade to black