Am I a threat or threatened?
Even the walls have eyes and ears.
I walk through the interchange with fear of being feared.
What’s that I hear?
Grunts as they speak about me.
Can I believe what I see?
Parents grabbing hands, distinctly removing loved ones from me.
From my path.
Is it paranoia?
What is it that I possess?
You judge me from the way I dress.
From the beige in my face.
What a fall from grace.
If you look me up you’ll find I always lived by the book.
Suddenly my mind is over-conscious – I used to blend in, now do I even fit in?
Faith lost in pretenders.
Objective becomes selective.
Now more people look beyond a lens and a self-fulfilling agenda.
Amid soul searching and scrolling,
petitioning and polling.
The divide multiplies.
I walk through the interchange intolerable.
Eyes closed, music on.