Ms. Understood

If our bodies are laid beneath the earth, when our spirit transcends.

What will I look like in heaven, 

 when my life ends?

Life is a mystery,

 mixed with misunderstood energies, 

a fluorescent whirl wind.

I fell in love with life, 

when my demons and I

broke amends.

 I wanted to leave memories of only 

the real me,

 So I caressed my fingers through the sand. 

Obtaining information in abundance the 

less I speak, 

I live to comprehend.

Curses and negativity is 

what the earth is feeding.

So I starve freely 

and write strategically,  

that’s how I get revenge.

My words will live eternally, 

My life story will never end.

Some people are meant to be  misunderstood, 

Only a few will ever understand. 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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