What They Tell Us- A poem

They say we are equal
Yet they still say there are minorities.
That doesn't make much sense to me.

They say what matters most
Is what is on the inside
Yet it seems as though people are more intrigued
By the shape of one another's face
Then by what they truly believe in.
That doesn't make much sense to me.

They say our grades don't define who we are
Or how much we are worth,
Yet colleges still want a high number
On a tiny piece of paper.
That doesn't make much sense to me.

Yet I still try to make sense
Of these modernized standards
Letting the bags under my eyes
Grow deeper and deeper

Cutting away the few sane parts that are left of me
With negative thoughts that keep me up at night
And distracted from my work which I don't think is fair
Nor does it make much sense to me.

Christa Eastman