Correcting Me

The world corrects me

As though I am born immoral

Corrupted by the first gasping breath

Of Earth’s polluted air

 

The world corrects my looks

Like how I am born is not right

That I cannot be

Unless I conform to the world’s view

 

The world corrects my speech

So the words I want

Are not mine to speak

But for others to listen

 

The world corrects my thoughts

Until I forget myself

And remember only the lessons

That have over taken the “my” in myself

-Kel Dayheart

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