By Kayla Long
Society’s Rejected ones
Unfit for a world of carbon copy clones
Tossed aside to wilt and die
Who dictates who is given happiness?
I do to them as done to me
Reject the world made so “perfectly”
With a shaking step I stand
And reach out with a demanding hand
Grasp a version of joy you make
Unmoved by tousle, rattle, or shake
Blooming with beauty for eternity
A flower unfurls inside of me