Chapter 10.
My Questions.
Will I be a somebody?
Am I a somebody?
Was I a somebody?
Can I be a somebody?
Do I wanna be a somebody?
My Answers.
I hope not.
Yes I am.
In another world, maybe I was.
No I can't.
No I don't.
My Poem.
Being famous is nice and all. So is being so rich that instead of the ball being in your court, you own the court because you're so wealthy that people know you can ball.
A baller, or even a shot caller. That's someone who is a somebody. When someone is a somebody, it doesn't mean someone is bigger and we're smaller. Don't you ever feel like you're a useless fish, and these somebodies own you as if you were the bait and they drive around in a trawler. I hope everyone including myself continue to keep their guards up as if we're building walls like a waller.
I'd love to stay myself, being a somebody isn't my style. I'll always be Luis Angel Nieves, the guy who stands out with a different appearance and smile. I've became a science experiment with a lifespan of 100 years, an experiment that glitches every once in a while. I can be someones Luis, and try to make it worthwhile.
My future looks blank at the moment, but hopefully I can build a floor I walk on all by myself by building the ground at my own pace...
I pray to build my ground tile by tile!
YOU ARE READING
His Left Temporal Lobe Leaked
PoetryI'm Luis. This is my freestyle project, call it anything you want. I am preparing myself for a potential surgery in my right temporal lobe. Appointments, decisions, and testing... It all begins on June 7th, 2018. I thought I'd keep writing this new...
