All of the others have they're life planned out. It seems to me they live life easy, without a thought. Without a doubt. Why is it that I stand on a stage, free styling wall they have they're lyrics pre made. Maybe it is I'm not in my place. Maybe I was meant for more. Is it strange. That I feel more at home under a tree, than in a house all my own. I want to belong but I long for the sky. If I where a bird I'd not want to die. Maybe I just got here a little late. But nobody else decided to wait. Why is it that...with all that I see.
Nobody seems, to want to see me.
YOU ARE READING
Shiny
PoetryI'm a lover of shiny things a dreamer of dreams. Enjoyer of rhyming things a cutter of strings. A lover of love and a lover of words, but in all reality... I'm just a girl.
