I am not wrong,
yet I am chained.
The irony of it all
leaves a bitter taste
in my mouth.
My name is not Wrong;
I am simply a prisoner
of circumstance.
A captive of boundaries
that have been etched into
the very fabric of society.
But even as I walk this earth
shackled and bound, I remain free.
Free to dream,
to imagine a world
where our differences
are celebrated
rather than condemned.
Where my skin color
or accent does not define me
as an outsider.
A world where we dance
in the rain without fear or judgment.
Where wrong is not a label,
but a mistake easily corrected
by the power of understanding
and empathy.
In this twilight
realm between light
and darkness,
I find solace
in the knowledge
that my spirit remains
unbroken.
The rain falls upon me,
washing away the grime
of imprisonment,
and cleansing my soul.
And as I dance beneath
the downpour,
I am free.
Free from the constraints
of a world that sees only skin deep.
For it is in this freedom
that I find strength.
Strength to continue
fighting for a better tomorrow
where all are equal under the sun.
Where wrong does not exist;
where our diversity is cherished
and nurtured like a precious flower.
So let us dance together,
my brothers and sisters,
beneath the rain of change,
and make this world right again.
