It's always the gypsies that spark imagination,

The harlots and sinners,

Outcasts and heathens,

The Heretics that dare to strike the match a different way,

And bring to others a glorious display,

Of mercy in the light of an ever present,

Day.

It's always the witches and devils that,

Bring my mind to places unheard of,

And struggle against the status quo,

Fighting, kicking, moving,

To and fro,

Never letting go,

Of the one idea that makes them what they are;

Unwanted.

Alone.

Made fun of...

Rejected...

It's always the people you avoid,

The ones you notice from the corner of your eye,

The ones that wear themselves a different way,

That disrespect the glowing rays,

Of teachers satisfaction,

Daring to reach beyond what society claims to be acceptable,

And cradle darker knowledge in their arms,

Self-armed,

With determination to never change, 

Re-arrange,

What people dare to call the norm,

And challenge every common fact with,

What-if?

It's always the strangers,

The children different and forced,

By due course,

Into the source of every child's nightmares,

Rejection heavy on their tongues,

From the whips that every man carries to keep in order,

Their perfect young,

And cast away the black sheep,

Spoiling the herd;

Who can't be heard.

The demons that escape you don't go home to hear you scream,

They wait for us in halls of pristine, uniform kids,

Each alike in perfect symmetry,

Dying from the pressure,

A mask to hide their fallen grace,

A secret that they wish release,

And night-time only brings a feast,

With those that harshest judge them,

Preach.

A choir of words that lash the gypsy like a whip,

Cut their arms and rip their flesh,

Much worse than a broken bone,

Rejected for their ideas alone,

A thought that made them stand out from the crowd,

"Get down, hide your face,

You're one of us, don't change your pace,

Don't turn around, Don't stop and think,

Never wait, you're always late,

For expectations..."

"Never help the ones that fall,

We could make you lose it all,

Don't dare be different,"

They always call,

For me to head away,

And leave them for the wolves that prey,

Upon their insecurities,

Enough!

I pray you see the harlots and the Sinners,

The Outcasts and the Heretics,

The gypsy...

Search for them from the corner of your eye,

And Never let them pass you by,

Join the outskirts,

Leave the crowd,

Be the difference that abounds,

Make the whole flock rainbow by comparison,

To what once was,

In unison,

Unique because we are the same,

And different in our similarities.

Notice them, 

And dare today,

To change and think a different way,

Never let them,

Disarray,

The Broken patterns,

Dancing,

Prancing,

Falling,

Stalling,

Ever showing you a,

Majesty,

That time forgot and,

Can't decay.

Have you ever seen the snow fall?

The crystal fractal patterns,

Each unique yet uniform,

Society in its best form,

Never letting individuals,

Show strong enough to break it's,

Uniformity,

And freezing every living thing,

And each uniqueness disengage,

Till every piece that once held life,

Is death.

Reflect.

I leave you now,

A broken stranger,

Filled with langour,

Anger,

Satisfaction from the pain,

That others can still,

Instill,

In me, 

Determined not to see the gypsy,

Broken,

As before,

With whipping words and,

Lies.

Eyes.

The broken,

Staring,

Caring,

Self-repairing, 

Mirrors,

Untouched by any,

Physical restraint,

But broken by the people's envy,

Never let to SHINE,

Like all eyes should.

Like all eyes could...

Like every eye of a child,

Should...

Like my eyes would,

If only her's...

Could...

Like her eyes...

Should...

Look at the eyes.

Always look at the eyes.

Because the gypsy,

Heretic,

Heathen,

Outcast,

REJECT...

Their eyes are bright.

They shine with broken light.

Determination,

Will to fight,

Lasting through this,

Blasted night,

Until society cannot reject,

The truth that they carry in their hearts,

"I was RIGHT!"

You dared to say that I was wrong,

You dared to break my eyes,

Again,

And again,

And again,

Every year

And chance you got,

Well look what your rejection wrought,

We won.

We have to win.

Why else would we still be here?

Why else are we still here?

________________________________________________________

(A/N) POETRY!

 I still exist.

What do you think of the poem? What do you agree with, and what do you think it means? I have my own interpretation, but I would rather hear what you guys think. The poet writes the poem for others; to learn from what they see. So go ahead and comment below! I'd love to hear your thoughts. If you have any questions or requests for something, let me know and I'll see what I can do!

Till next time!

Your Poet,

~ShadeFinder<(0^0)>