What I think of I?
This big question will always be
What in the world do I think of me?
Well... how am I supposed to know
It seems that life is but a dream,
Reality created through mind
It will be what you tell it to be
Just like I can tell this poem to rhyme
So I can waste your time
So I'll rhyme until you go blind
So you'll discover that this be a sign
That life can be annoying like a rhyme
If some traveller from the year 3015 woke me
And dragged me out my sheets
With one goal, to save me, but to save
Me by killing me
Because in some distant event
I become who I thought I would never be
What if I am not as great as I dreamed
Myself to be?
Certainly, Satan didn't intend to be God's
Greatest enemy
He made some bad choices, which began
His dissent
Falling from Heaven into Hell he went
Doesn't matter what he thinks of he
He will always be a danger to humanity
So if what you think can possibly be a lie
What should it matter what I think of I?
YOU ARE READING
:Distorted Beauty
PoésieThis is the beginning stages of a poem book that my sister and I are writing. We encourage comments and we do hope you enjoy it. More is soon to come by: Mikayla & Tiffany Moss
