Mon, 08/14/2017 - 13:21 -- t4dp0l3

You say you think you know me,

But I think that you're confused

Because if you really knew me

You wouldn't say "abused."

You say "locked up, imprisoned,"

Held tight from the inside,

Fighting constant wars with demons

I always try to hide.

You call me a survivor,

A fighter through and through,

But then you're wrong again, because that's just not true. 

You tell me I'm not broken,

I've got lots left to give

But sometimes, nights, I'm wishing, I didn't have to live. 

If you really knew me,

You'd know that I've been done. 

For years and years, I've fought them,

But now the demons' won. 

The day that I last saw him,

As they led my demon to his fate,

I saw the lost last look he held, 

And it was full of hate. 

I knew I could still fight it,

I thought that I could win,

But that last look he gave me,

Said he never would give in. 

So when I thought I'd carry on,

One more day and one more night,

The weight of it attacked me,

And I lost the will to fight. 

So don't call me a fighter,

Because I'm not that strong.

Call me, rather, something softer, 

Something that doesn't last for long. 

Because although I stood

For a time in all that storm, 

The flower always bends and falls,

When the weather's less than warm. 

So if you really know me,

Know I'm a flower through and through,

And know that I'm an Orchid,

And I'm only here for you. 

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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