On Paper
By Shreya Singh Wednesday, Aug 17, 2022
People can be whatever they want to be; We don’t force anyone,
that’s what it says on paper
We accept everyone; We don’t judge,
that’s what it says on paper
We treat everyone equally; we don’t discriminate
that’s what it says on paper
Then why is it that some people are forced to be someone they don’t want to be?
Why do they have to dream a certain dream to be appreciated?
Why is that some people must be ashamed of themselves or hide who they truly are?
Why is it that they need to look a certain way or get a certain grade to be accepted?
Why is it that some people must work harder than others just for half the pay?
Why is it that they are discriminated just because they’re not the same?
These lies on paper that we use to pretend that everything’s okay,
these lies on paper that we oh so nonchalantly use,
These lies on paper that we lie to ourselves with,
These lies on paper are the reason our world is broken
We’ve used these lies since the beginning of time; standing up, a step far too bold
We pass these lies from generation to generation, status more important than our youth’s poisoned brains
We use these lies to continue living in denial; the pain numbed with luxurious incentives
We use these lies thinking them to bring peace; instead, they simply tear us apart
These lies on paper that we follow religiously,
are stained with the blood, sweat and tears of so many
Yet we pretend to be blind.
Most of the victims of the pain caused by these lies must abide by them to fit in,
All the stories telling them to be true to themselves and not give up, remain as mere fairytales.
These lies on paper are the reason our world is crumbling,
Victims growing to be their own worst nightmares,
The disintegrating because of the blood, sweat and tears it caused being their only hope
But the paper doesn’t tear, each tear it absorbs adds a lie to the list
Every drop of blood that stains it is disguised to look perfectly normal
Every drop of sweat somehow adding to the need for the lies to exist
We can stay silent and follow these lies for as long as possible,
To create a perfect illusion
But there will eventually, be a tipping point.
One day, the blame game won’t work anymore
For no one will be innocent
Everyone will be a victim,
Everyone will be an oppressor
And what happens after that is something better left unknown
