In the story of my life,
You are the villains;
The plotters. The schemers. The bringers of strife.
You praise your heroism,
In dealing with me,
While pointing out flaws and enacting schisms.
You would only have loved me,
If I’d have earned it;
For you praise the motto: “Nothing is for free”.
You hold out expectant hands,
Awaiting some gold.
Oh, how is it not one of you understands?
I shouldn’t need earn the right,
To be loved like you.
Existing does not need a permit you write.
I’m sure you’d act shocked to find,
You’re drowning in sins.
Yet, of course you will all pay no nevermind.
After all, you are the villains.
K. Aldaya, 7/13/18