little women poems

7. Games

In this game of hide and seek try to find the real me....

For I shed skin when the games begin...

Only to be tagged to which, I'll put back on this dreadful mask.

I'll never forget this closed, restricted, cold, mold like feeling

I sit and wait, pondering simple things.
In hopes someone, someday will see pass the mask of flesh that is "me"...

But atlas a girl can only dreams...for I have lost all hope in humanity...

You see, everyone else is playing this game.

So maybe in a new time, generation or century or placement.

These "mask" will wither and shed.

And this new class won't get the bulls ass.

No. Their too good for that.

So I'll wait and try my best to finish this lame, brainless, insane mind game.