The following is a spoken word poem:
I was walking with my friends to lunch one day and they were talking about who they love. And immediately I'm told "oh, you'll never understand" followed by a hush bribe of fellow people who are too scared to admit.
They act like I don't know that. I know that you know that I know that you know I won't feel that. But count yourself lucky because you didn't have to have your legs crush and crumble like dirt and your heart sink to the floor as you cry tears of nothing but bitter salt to keep your eyes alive. You've never had the am I different moment, when can I stop be different moment? How can I stop be different moment?
I can't stop be different moment.
So, yes I do know I won't feel the same as you do. But God knows that I wouldn't have it any other way.
YOU ARE READING
A shout of quite poems
PoesíaExpressed feelings that I've put into some thing. All poems are my own.
