for what is a life worth
when you have nothing left to look forward to
and 18 was but a hope in your soul
but you still made it here
does it make sense now?
your purpose is not to live
but to be yourself, be who you feel good as
and in all honesty, ignore the fact
we all rot and we all get disheveled
not because it is what we want or have to work against
but because we're human, and we have limited time
to mope about and feel bad
hate your enemies
love your friends
and give yourself the time to feel good
find a way to feel good about yourself
and ask for help if you need such, understand?
id ask what you feel but i can see it now
nor, i guess
would you have needed to tell me
im you
and you're me
for what it's worth
i know you
but you may not know me
but here i stand
arms wide open
id cut my hair
just to make me stare
and id figure out a way to get me outta here.
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 2 of 2)
Poetrypoetry showing my stress. relieving, coping, really. continuing to add poems, sometimes daily. use this as place to talk about your own frustrations and dances with pain and strife
