Tangled Mess

October 27, 2008
By Shannon Darring, Oak Ridge, TN

Tangled Mess

Who I am
Doesn’t concern you
So what if I don’t fit the mold
Of some other social superficial girl

Like those who try so hard to fit in
Consumed by sin
Hiding secrets in the shadows
Of your put together box

Distracted by the illusion of perfection
Mad at a world that can chew and spit you out
Before you have time to figure out
Where you purpose stands

In life

Fed up
On your back
Throw up your hands
What’s the point?

I see my tangled web of flaws
Unraveling through it all
When I find my firm ground
And stand tall

Time is a ticking beating drum
Of what’s about to come
Can’t waste it on the jibber jabber of noise
Have to find my own voice

I am who I am

Hair a mess
Can’t dress on time
Always late, never participate
Fear holds me down

Shinning in the awkward moments
Smiling at your down falls
Can’t always admit that I’m wrong

But I can turn that around
Empowered by the sound
In the back of my mind

I’m not a waste
Nor a charity case
Banging begging at your door
Too stubborn to make the call

Though this is not all
There’s more unseen
Take a moment to see
Before you place me in another category

The author's comments:
I hope this poem is relatable to all readers, coming out of our comfort zones.

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