I try to be nice,
Like I once was.
For my battle grounds were once flower fields,
But a mind can never forget the blood and gore of wars.
A mind can never forget what it's been through,
I could never forget the feeling that I felt when they plucked my flowers out,
And replaced them with guns and open wounds.
I once was beautiful,
But now I'm a gun,
With a mouth for a trigger and uncontrollable words that are bullets.
A wolf in sheeps skin,
But I wouldn't change my battle grounds,
Because despite the stains of soldiers fallen, flowers still grow.
Despite the battle of good and evil raging on in my mind,
I can still paint a pretty face and be who they want me to be.
But then I open my mouth,
And they will realize,
I am not obedient,
I am not beautiful on the inside.
They will discover my war,
And that while there are still daisies in my field,
There is a fire in my forest and it will rage if somebody pushes me an inch too far.
I assume,
My body was destined for a fairy tale,
But my mind was meant to fight.
For I wear dresses, but my mouth spits venom.
I was once appealing on the inside too,
But that was long before the people called my body battle grounds.
A.KATHERINE
