Note; This one is a spoken word poem, so it was written to be heard out loud rather than read. But, I hate my voice so this is the only way anyone will see it atm. Have fun, I really enjoyed writing this piece of shit.
One, I didn't cry when I was born. There was nothing wrong- my family likes to say I've just been quiet from the beginning.
Two, I stayed quiet most of my life. Only my inner circle knew the sound of my voice.
Three. I admired one of my siblings so much I rebuilt myself entirely. It made me even quieter, somehow.
Four, I was too quiet. Often, people told me to speak up- so I learned how to raise my voice.
Five. My dad tells me to quiet down. My voice is overwhelming, now.
Six, I don't get quieter. I'm discovering pieces of me I've never seen before!
Seven, Nearly everything about me is loud now. I feel freer than ever! I like bright colors and loud music. My opinions are even stronger than my new voice.
Eight, my dad remembers how I was before. He wants me quiet again. This isn't who he wanted me to be.
Nine, I got my stubbornness from him, I refuse to give it up. I don't force myself to change.
Ten, no one hears me anymore. I'm louder than ever- they won't listen.
Eleven I want to scream because I know if I use my new voice I still won't be heard. I'd like them to think I'm crazy. Maybe then they'd listen, out of curiosity or caution.
Twelve, my dad thinks I'm being "influenced"- he says my attitude changes when I'm not at home.
Seven everything about me is loud now,
Thirteen I'm desperate
Fourteen, please think I'm the devil, I'd rather be scorned than ignored, so let my actions be my own.
Four, everyone told me to speak up
Five, my dad tells me to quiet down
Ten nobody hears me anymore
Fifteen- I'm everything he never wanted me to be
seven everything about me is loud now
Sixteen I feel trapped in my own house
Nine, I won't give myself up
Ten, nobody hears me anymore!
Seventeen I won't be ignored.
Seventeen- I won't be ignored.
Seven. Everything about me is loud now. Bright colors, loud music. My opinions are even stronger than my new voice.
Six. I don't get quieter. I'm discovering pieces of me I've never seen before.
Nine, I refuse to give myself up. I don't force change.
Eighteen. I choose myself. How does it feel to be ignored?
YOU ARE READING
Ode to Life
PoesíaIt's chaos to figure out how to live. To love yourself, to love others, to create, to destroy. It's just life. But maybe... just life isn't a bad thing? You can't have good without the ugly. This has all my poems combined, this'll be my only poetry...
