My name is Alaijha.
My name is broken, repaired, taped back together.
My name is a mistake.
An apology
Blame
My name has been misused,
Misunderstood, abused. Beaten, tattered.
My name is an argument,
A rumor,
Whispered through the hallways like a shadow trying to find its place.
My name is hope to people around me .
A success story,
A struggle story,
A story they can relate to.
My name comes with sympathy,
anger ,
frustration.
Its meaning has been changed yet still spelled the same.
People repeat it over and over
like a song they’re not sure if they like yet.
They try to get it out their mouth like a bad taste that keeps coming back.
My name has a story.
It is history of the past,
dreams of the future.
Ask me if I know my name,
and I’ll tell you….it’s incomplete.
YOU ARE READING
For the Misfits
PoetryI put my all into these poems and now I'm putting them out there. So this is for everyone who's emotions are so confusing that they have a hard time deciphering them. This is for the people who feel outcasted from society. The one they threw away. T...
