Judgement Confronted

Why don't you believe me when I say I'm just like you? Why are you surprised when I speak on things you don't think I should know?

I was raised on the same streets you were. I bear the same scars.

We're one and the same, you and I, and yet I'm an outsider to you.

Beaten away, used, degraded. Scoffed at and Dismissed.

But I am not like you. I was raised on the same streets only I bear worse scars.

I have suffered from their hands and yours. Your laughter is my burden, my anguish your punch line.

For some I am too beautiful; for others too Ugly. My mirror is distorted now, what lies within came out.

My looking glass has lost its luster but my soul feeds on the flames.

I burn through my days and nights trying to hide the shame.

But the bird has risen from the ashes; stronger, wiser.

And I am still like you- I was raised on the same streets, only now I bear healing scars.