My, my, my,
what is truly mine?
Do I own the color of my eye?
Can I really say my hands are one of a kind?
My, my, my,
what is truly mine?
Could I own the sky,
as some great archeological find?
My,my,my,
what is truly mine?
That love that was promised to me, that lie?
So many times repeated, it emptied my mind.
My, my, my,
what is truly mine?
Maybe my ability to reason and ask why?
I'm just waiting on a sign.
YOU ARE READING
A Gaze Through My Reality-scope
PoesíaA collection of 100 of my poetry works which are available on other sites, with a few exclusives.
