Red.

I left on a journey,

Thinking I’d find my whole.

But I left a piece of my heart with each person I had to leave.

So when I reached my destination

I didn’t have a whole me,

Nor enough pieces of me.

My heart was missing.

The hurt was red.

I ran back to my pieces. Home.

But some people grasped them to tightly crushing them.

While finding some have thrown them to the wind

As if they were pieces of sand tossed about in the ocean.

How can you tell me to follow my heart?

My heart is in pieces.

My heart

Its m i s s i n g.

What do you see?

As you walk down the streets

you watch the eyes of others, staring down at their phone or their eyes are glazed over looking towards their end

their feet, their hair,

you judge them

by their looks.

We all do, its all we have to base them off of.

First appearance.

Most people are the same,

consumed by themselves and greed,

fitting in, being popular, their persona.

Where are the people like me,

different from society.

Not robots, blinded by their materialism,

but living beings

who care about each other, the world, making a difference,

even if it is a smile to a passing stranger.

For those are the people who I applaud and commend.

For those are society’s diamonds in the rough.

For those are the living beings who are not conformed

To be society’s lemmings to the slaughter.