What's the point of calling them my people.
When they throw glasses in my way.
When my problems are nothing to them.
When their words make me breathless.
When my feelings are dramatic to them.
When they do what they feel is right, but it certainly isn't.
When my fears are funny to them.
When they twist their own words against me.
When they don't even think for a second before blaming me, for something I'm already regretting inside.
When their worry is limited to their benefit.
When they leave me in a burning home.
When they let me suffer, even when there was a choice not to.
My people?
It's ironic
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Author:
Antra Sharma (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 15th, 2026 01:48
- Comment from author about the poem: My people 🥀
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Fränz Müller
- In collections: The girl behind the strength.
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Comments3
Sad this poem questions relationships that are perceived as not understanding or caring. Well written Antra
Thank youuuuuu!!
Always most welcome Antra
Antra, I connect with the ache behind this...that moment when the title people carry in your life no longer matches how they actually treat you. That disconnect can be devastating. This one stayed with me, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Yess thank you!!
Sometimes those closest to us bear the sharpest knives. I feel this one on a cellular level. Thank you!!!
True, thank youu
You’re welcome!
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