This Is Me
By: Allie Hill
I'm a writer
but I'm not.
I try to express
the way I see
the world
through words
and they take
flight from my
notebook pages
like paper birds
I'm a fighter
but I'm not
I have my guard
up no matter what
I hide inside
to confide
in the confines
of my own
mind
I'm a visionary
but I'm not.
I'm blind
I can't see
I'm lost out
at sea
in waves of emotion
set in motion
I'm lost in this ocean.
I'm prepared for war
but I'm not.
I thought we had
fought it all out
we wont listen,
we have treason
and anger
pent up in our system
I'm real
but I'm not.
I put up my fake front
and facade
call out to god
for direction
as if god was really
going to show.
for all I know
it's fake too
religion is just
an imposed decision
pressed on to us like
a thousand pounds
I'm crawling
calling for help
on this ground
but god was
nowhere
to be found.
I'm sane
but I'm not.
I have an unsound
mind
a tainted
brain.
a deranged imagination
starved of creation
I'm disturbed
and unheard
I am a child of the
wild frontier
maniac of
the year
insane and full
of fear
no one will hear
what I have to say
I bought into the notion
that I'm
okay.
that I'm alright.
but in the darkness of
the night
swallowed into a void
of pain,
I realize I truly
define insane.
I'm a disease, a problem
like a million
blood clots,
or like a tangled chain
with too many knots.
I'm flawed with too
many thoughts
but I'm not.
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Photo By Allie Hill |
The poem and picture are both beautiful! Allie you Never cease to amaze me!
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