Enchanting Melody

Truth is

We are all just strangers
Just passing by
Hoping to get
A good grip
On life.
Truth is
We aren't all perfect.
We grow up in different worlds,
Led down wrong pathways.
We aren't all
Sunrises
Rainbows
And Sunshine's.
Truth is,
Most of us
Don't even know
Who we are
And what we are
And what we were
Meant to be.
I remember
As a kid
I use to love pretending
I was a bird.
It was where
I felt alive —
And free.
I could be anything,
Anywhere,
Any place.
And nobody could
Tell me no.
Truth is,
We grow out of
The pretending,
The adventure,
The magic.
Left to wander
And create most
Out of what we have.
Truth is,
There are possibly hundreds,
Maybe millions
Still trying to find
Where and who
They want to be.
We all have
Unique stories
That's why
I decide
To tell you this.
I'm an optimist.
Meaning,
I like to see the bright side.
A half full glass.
I guess you can tell
What exactly I did
After my parents divorce.
I had a habit of
Telling lies.
White lies
We use excuses
In order to keep
The ones we care about most
At peace.

Truth is, are we even okay at all?
Wearing a smile,
That might not even fit.

I sometimes catch myself
Wondering
Debating
On why
And what I was meant to do,
Or be.
The pressure of everyday life,
Can be heavy.
Bearing an invisible weight
On my shoulders.

Entering school to the first time,
Can be scary.
I remember making
My mother push me down the hallway
To my kindergarten class
While I cry and scream
“Don't leave me here.”
Greatest first impression.
I was and still am afraid to speak up.
I kept to myself.
I felt as if nobody
Would want to be my friend.
As embarrassing as I remember,
I had burst into tears
In grade one
When a boy said
He wouldn't be my friend.
He called me
Annoying.
Truth is,
I had only ever wanted to seem cool.
Something I was not.
And so,
The label stuck.
Annoying.
Weird.
Ugly.
Truth is,
I'm afraid
Of silent judgement.
The insults
Thought of
But never spoken.

But yet,
I think this world
Is beautiful
No matter
It's imperfections.
It's cruel fates.

Truth is,
I still make the best
Out of what I have.
I'm still learning
To come out from my shell
And be myself.
You must be thinking,
This is cliché as hell.
I think so too.

Thing is,
We all have different
Stories,
Beliefs,
Bodies,
Personalities,
And aspirations.
We just have to learn,
Which road to take,
And which direction to go.
I know,
Where I'm headed;
Somewhere
I want to be.
Someplace,
I feel best
For me.