Tasteing

I am doomed with sanity

But I know that secretly

They do not care

Fair is not a word

That has been said in a very long time

Fair is now a myth, a painting with no color

As a painting with no color, reminds me of my mother

Silent still and plain as I, I cannot speak without a
stutter

When I fast-forward I move to fast,

so I slow down but it won’t satisfy

why is it I can’t be neutral, instead I’m bias through everyone’s
eyes

I can’t resist the fact that they want me to die

But I just keep going on

Not listening to a cry

I’m thrown around beaten

For stating obvious facts to the blind

Is it that I haven’t opened up my own eye

And ignorant to the fact that what I see is a lie

Or am I right and don’t deserve to die

Soon I will be in groups and packs that can state

My own vision without creating weight

But these groups and packs are mythical

I have chosen my own fate

Underneath my skin are people

Screaming and wanting to get out

These people are ideas

I can’t figure out what this is about