Buses and Sidewalks


My life is buses and sidewalks,
Books and muses,
Used only to amuse and distract
From the reasons for not being where I want to be at.
My thoughts are ice cream and drowning,
Why? Because my disguise is bliss,
As I sweetly reminisce in a sea of,
You can’t be that and you’ll never be this.
Who am I to be known?
Daughter of a king,
This world has overthrown.
I ask again, who am I to be known?
My will is serendipitous,
A need is just a resolved want relevant to survival,
And my will is just as relative to my unforeseen arrival.
Equipped but not ready,
Misused and Unsteady,
My rise won’t fall behind another’s representation, because
I believe I’m the revelation.


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