Exit

As I walk down the hallway
I don't see any faces
Only blobs, shadow-like smudges
where people are supposed to be.
They look at me, but
it’s like they don't comprehend that
I exist.
I am invisible to them, or I might as well be.
Every day, I disappear a little bit more.
I shrink down against the blank stares,
and flinch when they walk into me
as if I'm not even there,
as if I'm not alive.
There is no humanity here.
This is a desolate place.
No compassion for one another
though we are all the same.
We technically are equals,
but society doesn't agree.
“Every man for himself”
the motto ought to be.
There is no room here for
the “strange” people—ones like you and me.
It's us against the world, it seems.
I want out of this place.
Can we exit this prison?
Or is there no way out?
I don't know if we can do this, not alone.
There's too many against us.
We're outnumbered.
Run! They're closing in!
Too late...their emotionless eyes
catch you and block everything else out.
No sunlight can escape into here.
I fight to gain my control back, but
their hatred beats me down
until I can't stand on my own anymore
and am forced to join the ranks
of the faceless mob.
Un-acceptance is the real killer
that makes individuals nonexistent,
just a slave of society.
Not guns or knives or any tangible thing.
And here, in this bleak place,
live the pros.