Categories > Original > Poetry
So we were different. We acknowledged this, and so did our friends and the people around us. It was hard not to. But did it really matter, our contrasts, when we had somehow ended up sharing the same emotional plane? Sharing a heart?
I didn't think so. Neither did he.
Upon reflection, we were naive and idealstic to believe that our contrasts wouldn't inhibit our being together. People are people. Love is love. But in modern society, in such a changing time, where the opinions and interests of the younger and older generations begin to clash, to survive is a fight. A struggle. One that, as we both knew in the back of our minds, we couldn't win. Two people, standing together, against the stereotypes and opinions of an entire,aging generation couldn't last. But we were trying, for as long as we could, and fighting a losing battle.
Our contrasts. Like the how color of his skin stood out against my paleness when our fingers laced, saying "We believe in a forever." I loved to see the colors when we touched. Black entwined with white, a fascinating multicolored blend of humanity. His touch grazing my skin screamed our differences, while our hearts had the tenacity to shout our similarities. Two colors of two hands stood gloriously bold against the other, the contrast obvious, but the structure the same. How can one say we're too different?
Our contrasts would become the death of us.
I didn't think so. Neither did he.
Upon reflection, we were naive and idealstic to believe that our contrasts wouldn't inhibit our being together. People are people. Love is love. But in modern society, in such a changing time, where the opinions and interests of the younger and older generations begin to clash, to survive is a fight. A struggle. One that, as we both knew in the back of our minds, we couldn't win. Two people, standing together, against the stereotypes and opinions of an entire,aging generation couldn't last. But we were trying, for as long as we could, and fighting a losing battle.
Our contrasts. Like the how color of his skin stood out against my paleness when our fingers laced, saying "We believe in a forever." I loved to see the colors when we touched. Black entwined with white, a fascinating multicolored blend of humanity. His touch grazing my skin screamed our differences, while our hearts had the tenacity to shout our similarities. Two colors of two hands stood gloriously bold against the other, the contrast obvious, but the structure the same. How can one say we're too different?
Our contrasts would become the death of us.
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