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Outcast

By Erika Colson, Michigan

 

I eat with the outcasts; the one’s refusing to sail the waters swarming with deception,

He told me, He promised me

There would be times of maltreatment,

Of despondency, hurting, and loss.

Diseased in truths, I’d rather be identified an outcast, than to take part in the competition of deceit.

He promised me, He would walk with me, I’d never be without help.

My flesh seeps into my spirit, telling it lies.

I remain for the fight to begin,

I count to one hundred a million times, waiting for the valid time,

I will be tried