We, of today,
are not the same.
Cuddled, scared, burned,
hated, and loved
we face the world
creating illusions
to survive.

They give us
different eyes,
the wounds
we’re trying to hide.
Cotton, wool or silk,
long nails and high heels
just to deceive,
and hide
what’s not to be seen.

We were told
that only strong ones
sit on a throne,
and that suffering is
another word for love.
How could we know
they were wrong
if not to bleed
on our own?

We, of tomorrow,
will know the pain,
and the world
will never again
be the same.
Hearts change
only when they break,
and truth
is as illusive as fate.


~ Iva