i cut off all my hair in hopes that i would figure myself out but now i just have no hair


Sure, that's me.

That is my name.

The first thing people see.

But when they let themselves in,

And pass through the door,

When they find themselves inside,

But not finding what for,

And they maybe ask questions,

Like what do I like?

I like reading and writing-

Can I ride a bike?

I think I remember,

But maybe not quite.

I think that I’d like to,

I think that I might.

Well, what do I do?

I focus on school.

They mean, like, for fun.

Well, don’t go thinking I’m cool.

I don’t really “sports”,

(Sorry to disappoint)

I have a blog on tumblr.com

Which is why I have a weak wrist joint

Oh, they didn’t laugh.

They must not have a blog.

Or maybe they have friends.

One who’s not a dog.

I think they think I’m weird.

Which isn’t really wrong,

But the weird they think I am

May be a bit too strong.

But how does that work?

My individuality being too much so

God forbid I overstep boundaries

That lie where only I know.

What was that last thing?

What do I want to do?

First I wanna figure that out,

Then see if someone will pay me to.

But I guess you mean my dream,

And that is to do simply this.

I wanna keep on rhyming

Be that rhyme that will be missed.

I want to get stuck in your head,

And make you forget that it’s me,

But then when you’re caught up in it,

It’s your favorite place to be.


Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression! 

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