By Zoe S. - 2024
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Few
They let few become many,
And let many become a few,
To them, we’re numbers
We’re voiceless and easy to abuse.
So narratives are thrown,
Our existence is marred
I know they don’t want me here
But, I can’t just keep my identity barred
No, believe what they say
Let us all live in fear
Let us all become their prey
While they plug the public’s ears
We’re not bad people
We’ve not been ‘led astray’
We’ve not been convinced
That bad things are okay.
But when few become many
And many become a few
All that they will see is
The misdeeds “we” do.
Their campaigns, their articles
Their stories made to sway
Have no better effect
Then making kids fear their 18th birthday.
Statistic
Nothing will come of this,
Nothing I write or make will enact change,
But I just don’t want another me to exist,
I don’t want another year of pain
Alas, It’s 2022 again, back where I started.
A breath and a slip away from
Being another number on a graph,
Another digit…
Another sad,
Sorrowful,
Preventable,
Statistic.