My morals guide me.
Don’t hurt others,
And the most important,
Be a good person.
These morals are inferior.
They don’t take so many things into account.
Day after day,
These principles guide me.
I end up at the bottom.
My morals were created by fairy tales,
By organised religion designed to oppress.
I say that,
But is that really so?
Did trauma really have no part?
Hate and anger for the world fuelled me.
And so, when these morals are questioned.
I step back,
‘Who am I?’