We are dry leaves
struggling to survive
we stop, we admire,
we are stopped by malicious glares.
We stumble walking in worn shoes,
allowing pressure to push us down
we cannot stop, we want to,
we are silenced by the voice of aggressors.
We escape from their clannish,
but we turn and stare, and listen
we retract from our initial thoughts
we are crushed by their vile.
We read our own phrases,
to remind us of our true faces
we think of when we’ll end
but until then, we can embrace our fulfilment.