"I wanted to be a great poet and playwright!" Mumbled the ten years old me.
"Now I'm sure I wanted to be an author of great novels and be a renowned one." Said the eleven years old me.
It's not that long since I hoped for that. As now, I'm thirteen, and the thirteen years old me started wondering about the ten and eleven years old me.
"What a poor girl who wanted to be the other person whom she know she couldn't be. Why want to be the other, if she could be herself and unleash her better side better than those whom she wanted to be?"
YOU ARE READING
An Obscure Reflection
PoesieMy simple thoughts can be a vast of strange collection of words. These strange collections of words completes me. [01 13 2020 - republished, but not revised, for personal reasons] [01 13 2020 - I made this compilation three years ago and I was just...
