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Outcast pitiless pariah crawling on my knees, beating my breast moaning " mea culpa." The crowd would love that- a spectacle. ( or if not love, tolerate.) But no,
Let's turn the page I have a story to tell About being on stage And how I fell I'm attached to strings Yet I want to be free Everyone else sings While I wish to be me
Contrary to popular setup,Beauty isn't on the outside,It can't be found in clothes, money, or makeup,Or in color, shape, or size,Beauty isn't in hobbies or even sight,
I haven't forgotten the girl whose name no one knew. She never let herself be The person people didn't see, But she never was reason for rumors either. She only did what made her content.
Under the surfaceResides an unknown girlDifferent from the one exposed to the worldI hide her insidewhere no one can seeBut this girl, the one trapped beneath the surface, is the real me.
Like a shadow in the sun, I followed. I conformed to what others told me I should be. Following the social norm, I was content with fitting in. I could be easily swayed one way or the other;
If you asked me to describe who I was last year I could not tell you Even she would not have the words to depict herself She had no clue Insecurities and emotions skewed her self-image Until she grew
I was tired of the conformity, I had finally found myself. The braids hid the real me, Long and black, Suffocating my true self. The words were thrown, Like blows from hands, You have no hair,
The thing I’m most superficial about Is my own uniqueness When I was a little kid It was important to me That I’d pick a different color or number
It wasn't really the words Rather, the art
Black and White, Black and White They meander around me Their opinions Black and White, Black and White Will they ever let me be?
She pens her whispers into hushed handwriting. shouts her fears, thoughts, angers into the cold clean air. slinks through every inhalation that passes,
You tell me I'm complicatedBut you're the one to make it soLook at what you see up frontThat's all you need to know
Why be me when you can be you? Why be someone else when there is always you? Everyone has their own troubles and happiness You are the only one who knows you best No one has it perfect
We hardly laugh. Do you remember your laugh? I love to hear children laugh free. We have it covered; Our real laughts are covered, But the laughs of the young are free.
I am many things I am a writer and a reader I am self driven and never do I mind That my mind is a mess And rarely makes scene. I am a soon to be graduate and forensic pathologist
Be who you are Be who you see yourself become Be who you want to be around for that is who you will become Personality is a reflection
I am from curiosity, letting go of hands Tumbling down stairs No one around me, to say “Hey watch out” A lone giggle I am from quite lonely days
Who am I, you ask? I am me. I can't narrow it down--that's all I can be. I refuse to be labeled by what people see. All I want is just to be free to be me.
'98, 17 Man I’m only 17, But there's people always pushing me to do great things,
A wildfire of a soul--entrapped by glass of reality. Ferociously burning, in which drains for all eternity. This is passion. My passion.
A baby, not even a moment oldIts story is unwritten, clean, untoldGrows into a child, encouraged to fulfill his dreamsJust be sure to fit within society’s scheme
You were the rose, but with thorns, One touch and I bled,
I've always been told that I'm not good enough I'm told that I need to change to fit in But I just respond with "Nah, that's not me" I was at my first party and someone handed me a drink
Before the mask an urged facade we were shamelessly us but they found it odd An idiosyncrasy among their "perfection" trying to fit in there was a disconnection
Hello and welcome to the grand tour, Saftey exits are to your right just in case. Trust me, many people have used them. If you decide to stick around we're going to have quite the long day,
We are black and white Light and dark Angels in halos Of the conflicting sort I am the black Hiding in light's shadow Wishing and waiting for when I shine too
Downgrading someone’s beauty because of the shade of their skin?That’s like loathing a flower for the colour of its pigment.Lessening someone’s attractiveness because of the texture of their hair?
Do you ever just wonder, Listen, and wait?Before that moment is gone - its too late.That moment is behind us, Its stuck in the past.But why let that stop you, Must the pain last?
A leaf falls Drifts in the wind Carried on a breeze smelling of wood smoke And the sound of splashing Sinks into my skin Like the sun Bounces off the autumn leaves Sheading summer skin
Wisps of dreams To win the mean
the feeling of power swallows the soul into an abyss ofan evil being we thought would be never capable.but then there's the mighty ones turning that power into a beacon of hope and a brighter future for man kind.
Can you feel its' touch?
How shall I describe these things?
What matters to me? What matters to you? To him or to her or to us all? What a simply complicated question, like a river or a song, an answer so long; A long graceful tree with so many poking, preaching branches to call, so tall,
Please do not judge me on my face My religion or my race Don't judge me on my hair Where I live or what I wear Don't judge me on how I look Or even the way I cook
Often we forget from where we are originated. We let expensive items define who we are. We lose touch of the person we want to be, and turn into the person that society defined.
To strangers I am one, Who is quiet and withdrawn, And only to the ones I love, I open up.
One voice , on, one heart , one mind , but what is the purpose to believe in ones own kind to believe in theenter beauty that was given to you from above to love and cherish ones own family .
As I look threw the thick clear glass, I don't see my reflection, As I look deeper, and deeper into the glass I was no where to be found. My mind was spinning, my heart was pounding, I was losing my mind.
I am young and I want to learn This is me I am free and am willing to fly This is me I am honest and i will become your friend This is me I am real and i will show myself This is me
I had a thought I had a thought as I sat in my room trying to make sense of my life Trying to make sense of the rejection, the difficulty, the strife
My heart should be as large as the Grand Canyon. Love rushing through it like water, carving it out, squirming its way in, making it wider, deeper, more soulful. It should beat for those who love me,