We're always here
Those who cannot fight back
Those ignored, shunned, hated, bullied
We're the Lost
We cannot endure much longer
Our pain, misery, sorrow
It means naught to you
You never listen, understand
Foolishly believing that it will always be fine
But life is not that way
There is no way for us
For we have strayed from our paths
Be it caused, forced, willingly
We are lost
And we will not back down
For otherwise, we are no better than those idiots
Yet perhaps we can be lead back
But perhaps we do not wish to return
So what will we do
Do we continue being lost
Or do we return to society
Being mocked, jeered at, taunted
For not being what they prefer
Can they not see they are the wrong ones
They are those who do not feel
Those who are not right
Or we can build up our own
Can we manage the recovery
Can the lost become new
Can we forge anew a path
Stronger than those morons
Can we, The Lost, recover
For thought we are lost
Our purpose may now be clear
The lost are stronger and more worthy than else
For we are lost, but perhaps
We can forge anew a different way
And become more
Perhaps and perhaps not
For we are the lost
But we always prevail
Thus, we are the Lost
YOU ARE READING
The Lost
PoetryThe lost. The abandoned. The miserable. The world from our point of view. WARNING-Written in poetical style. If you don't like, don't read.