30 days, 30 poems.
I’m used to being interrupted,
And told, I’m too young to know.
As if my age has any bearing,
On right or wrong.
I’m used to being underestimated.
Being told I’m not strong enough,
That I never will be.
I’m used to being overestimated
And taken advantage of.
I’m used to being told that someone else,
Knows what’s best for me.
I’m tired, exhausted.
Of hate, of sorrow, of loneliness, of blame
I wish the world would take a nap
And make up its mind.
Alisan Keesee 