The world knows not of what we are
what we do
what we have seen.
Yet many judge us by the way we look,
the way we dress,
the way we act.
We all have hidden thoughts inside of our heads
yet they judge us like they know us
and sometimes wish we were dead.
I am one of the judged
Judged
I love it how in America, the country that preaches equality and acceptance, everybody is judged and treated differently by how they look or dress. Stereotypes. That is what makes up America, not acceptance. This is my poem on being judged. Enjoy.Did you like this poem? Write one of your own!
