Young years 🟡

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When I was five, My teacher asked me What I wanted to be When I grew up,
And I said "pretty"
If only I hadn't
Placed so much value
On something so trivial
Being pretty no longer
Interests me as much as it used to Because my appearance
Has never belonged To me,
But to an audience I have been trapped
Performing for like Truman
I want to scream
And break the walls
This is not what I wanted.

🔮🦋🔮🦋🔮🦋🔮🦋🔮🦋🔮🦋🔮🦋🔮
~M.P.G

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