I am the ninth letter

The name of the writer

The one who speaks to the readers

I; a human; a mortal; the one

Who has but much to be done

Yet accomplished so little

To type this out

To pour myself out

To the world that I was born in

But felt at times a burden

To those around me

That couldn't quite see

The things that were within

That scars me like a sin

But does to this day

Help define in a way

My reason, myself, and being

I am the tears that fell like the rain

The spilled blood and the pain

I am the one that ran outside

I am the one who tried and tried

But always got up when she fell

And would try to make a heaven out of a hell

I am the girl you see in the corner

The one labled out as a loner

But I'm also one

Like those among

This wide and cruel big world

That knows the power of words

And how to use them to communicate

I am the words that morph and create

These words on this page

And for this I dedicate

To those that relate

To how I define "I"


This poem is about: 
Our world


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