The Human Race Poem by bridget gourlay

The human race is forever switching off and re-tuning our selves to fit in
We are offended if we are called weird, yet angered at the thought of being boring
Who are we? We are often caught asking ourselves these universal and existential questions.
Yet our conclusions are subjective.
We act a certain act which our friends become familiar with and that is then highlighted and certified as our role in society or the group.
We are all masked individuals yet we are subconsciously living by our expectations,
of ourselves
or what other's perceive of us.