Am I who they say who I am?
Do I look like what they say I look like?
Is it me that I need to change?
Some faces may be neutral, but behind this face is a sense of fear.
The tears may shed through poetry as anger expresses through stanzas.
Am I the victim?
Never seen it coming!
Can it disappear completely?
With one voice?
I am accountable to be myself. I am free to be me.
The day you went away,
my world slipped away,
as if i were to roam the sky
with a thousand butterflies,
the moon tonight is clouded with the blackness
that is when the sorrow turns into the upmost joy,
thinking that the moon will carry it all away, all the pain for today.
I see a Balloon
Floating up high in the Air
Making Faces now.
If you can come down
And consider me as New
I will shoot at You.
In a Field of Peace
I pray for your Sore Tummy
To heal very soon.
There once was a girl who lived in a world of fake.
She tried to convince everyone she was real
Oh, what she tried to take.
But when people denied that she was “herself”
She threw a fit, like a toddler.
In the respect of bad grammar, oh she had wealth
(But really she should be more worried for her health)
Because you see, when trying to reason with her,
As everyone eventually tried to
She becomes as unintelligible as a rabid bunny, with no fur.
In short, do I hate her? I would smack her?
Yes it’s true.
But I think I’ll just leave that pleasure for you.
Yeah, this world has changed me
Who am I?
I hate who I am
I question every choice I’ve made
Did they break you apart?
Who are you now?
Won’t you fight back?
Or stay the same