© Randi Marie Poole
Written on April 20, 2006
“People” think they know me, but do they really? am I really what they see?
“People” always try to show me all these “different” ways to live and
all these “different” ways to feel, but what’s inside my heart
is the only thing I’ve thought to be real.
“People” always try to hold me and “people” always call me theirs,
but if they knew “my heart”, “my feelings”, “my everything” I’m sure they’d call it unfair.
“People” take my pictures and they put them on “their” walls,
but if they’d look in my eyes I’m sure they’d see my flaws.
“People” are the ones who put me here and “people” are the ones
who made me this way, so if “people” are so “perfect” then why don’t they have anything to say?
P.S. SPEAK UP!!
Loading...
