by Who am I but average?
Average almost anything that meets the eye. But I am more than your eyes allow you to see. I am more than just enough, less than perfect. With struggle, I can be erased, but with ease be brought back into place. I scare you for what you are, although this world made you feel that way.
The constant comparison, I swear that this was not how it is supposed to be. You preach of love, but shame health. You promote unrealistic ideologies and cause a lifetime of pain.
You feel embarrassed to show your true self, the outer beauty you refuse to accept. The underlying thought of not wanting to be different. The overwhelming fear of being unique.
We are not all born the same, built the same or raised the same. That is how it always has been, although we still give a mold for each person to try to fit in. We all do our parts, and our differences guide new ideas, creations, and progress in the world. But we all seem blind to this idea of each of us living as we see fit.
Who am I but me? In any and every way, just the same as every human. No differences can change this, but an open hard can enforce it.
by admin