In classrooms where the colors blend,
They twist the truth, they bend and bend.
They speak of freedom, choice, and change,
But young minds aren't a canvas for the strange.
They whisper softly in eager ears,
"Don't trust the body you've held for years."
Confusion swells where clarity stood,
Where once was innocence, now lies a flood.
They teach the child to doubt their name,
To question the skin that feels the same.
Ideas bloom like thorns in play,
"Who you are is just a game to sway."
But when the mirrors shatter wide,
A fractured self is hard to hide.
The scars of truth, the cost of lies,
Are written deep behind their eyes.
What's taught in play can leave a mark,
Turning brightness into dark.
Be careful where you place the seed,
For not all blooms are what they need.
YOU ARE READING
When Silence Wept
PoetryIn this collection of poetry, the veil is torn away, revealing the undercurrents of darkness that run through the human experience. These poems are raw and relentless, exploring the spaces where light fails to reach, and the truths we fear most come...
