I sat,
Watching,
Observing,
Obsessing over small details in people.
I wanted to be like them,
I wanted to live the life of the girls i saw,
I wanted the confidence of guys,
I wanted to have everything
the others did.
I realized these people had something big,
bigger than strength,
Bigger than humor,
Bigger than the skill to like their own smile.
Something that i didn't,
They had the one thing i yearned for,
The one thing i dreamed to be able to do,
They had the ability,
To talk to you
YOU ARE READING
A Public Poetry Diary
PoetryA poet is only as good as their muse, All of mine happen to bring sorrow.
