I Am


I Am.

I am misunderstood, forgotten, and broken.

But still a beautiful spirit waiting to be awoken.

I am put down, thrown aside, and constantly told lies.

Yet, I am a prideful tiger that has just arrived. 

They say I am quiet, 

not bright they might add,

they even try to see me sad.

But You See, I am a rose, blossoming from the thorns.

They pick at me but can't handle the horns.

I am beautiful, no matter what they say and do.

I know this because I learned to believe in myself too. 

I may be misunderstood,

But that misunderstanding is working out for my greater good. 

This poem is about: 


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