Stereotype, stereotype, the words of others "define me" but isn't that just what I want you to see?
Since I was younger Ive learned that people always leave. Put on a happy face and pretend to doesn't matter "because the less you care the happier you'll be" But that isn't exactly reality. "Mean, stubborn, carefree." Ive become nothing, but my own tragedy.
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I stand with my feet planted on the ground, with all of my weight pushing down.
The chaos around me will not knock me down. I feel the wind pushing against my chest and my body is wary from the lack of rest. But with my feet so firm I know I am blessed for I will not end up like all the rest. I wonder down this narrow path.
The sky's dark, gloomy with ought a a trace of light to be seen. The creatures that lurk in the night are all around. With every step I take my head us held high and my posture up right for any other way would be mistaken as weakness. The thought of stopping comes to mind as it has many times before, but still I push forward, still I move one. One foot infant of the other I feel like a wind up toy. I go through thee motion, but cant find a purpose. I know it sounds silly, a maid up myth, but maybe thats all I have left.
I look at the bird and what it represents, a sense of hope, peace and security. But like blowing on a dandy lion or wishing on a star I soon learn that this dream should be put to rest, but then why do I hold it so dear to my chest? I arise every morning and go through the motion.
I slide on my boots and zip my coat, but I still feel the absence of you. I look into their eyes, the eyes of which used to bring me comfort, but now are just a simple reminder; a resemblance of you. I know that you're in fields full of roses and daisy with says so blue. I know you're at peace, but that bring my heart ease. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
April 2016
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