A/N: Most of my poems don't rhyme
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Every day I tell a lie
A lie that's so absurd
A little lie in the morning so I can't be heard
A little lie in the evening, a lie with every word
A lie to hide myself and my thoughts from this whole world
But one day I will tell the truth to some passing birds
And they'll screech and stretch their wings and fly away
Away from all they've learned
They will mock me, that's how this is written
But I do not care for they will fade away, and I will keep on burning
A flame not brightly smitten
But still every day I tell a lie
A lie I don't understand
The birds have it easy, they don't have missing plans
While my wings were clipped long ago and exchanged for hands
YOU ARE READING
angsty poems i wrote like two years ago
Poetryjust some poems some are stories some are about my identity enjoy bud
