beingmyself
Learn more about other poetry terms
I am numb.
Just barely awake,
but awake enough to go through the motions.Desperately in search for someone to see past color and see the real beauty within.
I am anger,
Me is nerd,
Myself is ornithophilous
I am determined.
Read, bird-watch, give my A game,
All these are in my name.
Studying is not only me
Playing with my birds is not only myself.
Smile,
Wave hello,
Be friendly,
Be bold,
Be perfect.
They expect that from you,
So you give it to them.
“What’s wrong?”
They ask, if you only slightly frown.
There used to be a curtain
But I tore it down
This is who I am
Someone who thinks inside and outside the box
I used to be afraid, I use to be "different"
They used to make fun of me
Intimidation is the wall that separates her from the truth
To fit in she dresses to impress the ones who call her “lame”
What is lame anyway? It’s only a describing word, like perplexed, or shamed, but what’s in your soul?
Standing in front of the mirror
Knowing who I am
But I feel like I'm lost
In this wonderful land
My poem is uninspired.
It is boring; it sounds tired.
You may like it for its tons of rhymes,
But trust me, it ain't worth your time.
Now, ain't ain't a word,
But it's a word many have heard.
The Crow's the one who tells the story
With fleeting ebony wings, he comes
To torment the mind
He brings all nightmares into reality
Fates ebony angel
His eyes see straight into the soul
