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My Life Poem
What’s life when you don’t know who you are?
Is it a simple truth that my mind passes by in its overthinking?
Maybe it’s a song or a dance.
But, alas who knows, only one who has seen it.
People spend their days too worried in the words of another.
For they try to fit into a keyhole that is given shape by everyone around them.
Problems arise when they find that there is one keyhole they fit not many.
Yet, they keep trying to reshape themselves to fit every.
I’m one of those people.
One that has to be everyone’s type.
The one that if the mirror doesn’t say perfect there is no point in trying.
That is a downfall of trying your very best.
Yet it seems I am still like the rest.
I strive for hope and happiness too.
Yet it never comes with the people so few.
I love with all my heart but then fall the farthest
And when they say I’m not trying is when I cry the hardest.
Maybe I am but a sliver of hope.
Running around in the shadow of home.
Maybe I’m nothing but a memory
Lost in time, yet no one hears me when they come upon.
The years go dark as I try to find who I really am or what must die.
I’m scared I say, but nobody sees a girl so sad as me.
I can only hope for the time to come.
Where I don’t have to hide behind a bush.
A bush? You ask...
Yes, a bush one that is full of my stories.
One that has all the mistakes and the one that tells my tales
I still haven't found my purpose but slowly I find my path.
If only I understood all that words I have.
Together at last I will say on that faithful day I find the one I love and it will stay that way
I hope it comes and comes fast at will
Because the girl no one loves is slowly fading still.
Maybe someone will notice.
That not everyone is fine
And that someone is dying beside them
Because it happens fast
The hill slopes and curves while no one says a word
I’m hiding in my deepest sorrows as my heart fades
All I want is love and good days.
Will anyone find me?
Or will I be forever out of reach?
Will someone say they love me?
Or is my survival breached?

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This is something I whipped up in the midst of my emotions. I just want other people to understand me. I want other people to have a way to express themselves, so I created words that could help.