The birth of a dreamer

My hero is invisible.

She comes out in the bright colors that cross my mind,

The beautiful stories that feed my imagination.

My role model is the reason why my trees are green,

Dark green with tiny specks in the leaves

The amazing green, with personality and wonder.

What can I say.

I was born,

I awake every day,

But words threw me an anchor

I rose and truly lived.

Antisocial and quiet, the lonely kind,

The hood over the head, sit in the corner, brooding thinking kind,

The special kind, with rebellion and bright personalities.

I read Kate constables singer of all songs.

And it read me,

It listened,

It held me and told me everything was going to be around,

The feel of its hands as it took me on the ride across its pages,

With wonder and personality.

My hero lives within me.

The words that have painted my life in color,

Such wonderful color, the beautiful kind with orange polka dots,

And specks perfect and vibrant and beautiful.

How can I even explain.

The world says my life is plagued with the burden of

Low income , improvised, prison, drugs, guns.

But kate constable says my life is just beginning.

What can I say.

My role model opened my eyes and gave me the keys,

So my shackles can finally fall,

And i could fly free like the wind she wrote about.

The breezy easy beautiful kind of wind.


This poem is about: 
Our world


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