You know my name not my story.
You know my face not my heart.
You see what I choose to show you,
but you don't know the real me.
Your assumptions about me are most likely wrong and
stereotypical because of how I look.
Your thoughts and memories of me are more like illusion.
You judge me and make your own opinions on me
but I don't care because you
don't know the real me.
YOU ARE READING
Teardrops Turned To Words
PoetryPoetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted. ~ The first few poems are very amateur so if you want you can skip to the end where my better and most recent poems are. Published: 2.11.16 Finished: 9.20.17
