Wednesday, October 29, 2014


downy soft, feather light,
memories of another night,
the fear that all will come again,
and the fear there are no friends.
who am I? the question constant,
to myself I always posit;
it is not straightforward, clean,
it's messy, broken, and unseen.

say it again, the same old words.
their argument never changes, of course;
always "you don't matter",
and never a good reason;
always "I am right",
and never the mind changing.

say it again, the same old words.
I've heard what you got, and I've heard worse.
I'll live my life, one day I'll fly,
you've never seen the things I've seen,
you'll never achieve as much as me.

so say your piece,
I'll listen again.
but you'll control me no longer.
it took a while, but here's what I've found:
I am greater.

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