I look back to when I was young,
wondering where I went wrong.
I used to be cheerful and happy,
and now I'm barely stringing along.
Maybe this was a dream,
one I had to wake up from.
One that I wish wasn't over,
but I woke up, it just had to be done.
I used to be so sweet and special,
I used to be so unique.
While now I'm just the same as the others,
not a limited edition antique.
Maybe this was a good thing,
I was young and egotistical.
I just miss when I used to be joyful,
when life was colorful and whimsical..
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Poetry With a Story
ПоэзияEach poem tells a story or a broad plot. Like the rue of an ex-ruler, or the story of a war that someone fought. None will be continued, this is really quite out of the blue I post random and weird things, things that may traumatize you. Okay, I'm o...