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Sometimes I want to wear shorts that make me look like a little boy named Timmy.
Sometimes I want to wear skirts that make me look like an Amanda.
Amanda or Timmy...
Timmy or Amanda...
Who am I today?
What role am I playing?
Will I be a Timmy?
Or an amanda?
Such a hard decision, I shouldn't have to choose.
what if I want to be Timmy and Amanda?
Is that okay?
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Whoop whoop! Another old poem!
As usual, written by I, me, myself, Era.
I'll let you figure out the meaning yourself. Or interpret it as you'd like.
Do NOT claim my poem as your own!
YOU ARE READING
thought prison
Poetrypoems. a lot of poems. lost thoughts without a mind, but also a lost mind, without thoughts
