A book of small poetry

Shadow

I assume that, for many years,

I must not have known what a shadow was

It was usually there

But it didn't hurt me

Well, not at first, I guess

Now, after many years,

I wish I didn't know what a shadow was

It follows me around

It hurts me

That must sound strange, I guess

Of course a shadow can't physically hurt you

It can't help but follow you around

But looking at it hurts me

It's so hidden and perfect

I wish I was like it

I think I'm jealous of it

Is it unhealthy?

To envy your shadow?

It's slenderness and beauty

It's part of me, but absolutely nothing like me

Is it really mine?

I look down and it's there

But I look up again

There's another one there

In the back of my mind

That one I do not envy

That one's scary

It's darker

Less pretty

Less slender

Less perfect

Yet somehow, it seems to be

Far, far more like me

I hate both my shadows

One perfect, one broken

One what I want to be

One what I seem to be

Both manage to hurt me

Hi, me again. This is a little different. Still stupidly emotional, slightly more child-like but that was sort of what I was trying to do. I wanted to try something different so I deliberately made it free-verse. I prefer rhyme schemes on the whole though. I feel like they give me more of an outline. I don't know if this is crap or not. Please educate me. Bye!

Mouse