They wouldn't care
if they really knew.
They'd make me leave
if they really knew.
She jokes about throwing him out
over a game
but she doesn't know
that I'm right there, listening.
They complain about people like me
in books, TV, and even real life.
Is that all I am?
''Too much''?
Or not enough?
Can you not see me?
You're blind to our struggles
and you refuse to learn to see.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry from my Soul
PoetryPoems (mostly free verse) that I write when I feel that I should. Thanks to @BrandonMull_Lover (https://www.wattpad.com/user/BrandonMull_Lover) for the inspiration. I try to update on a semi-daily basis. The chapter header photos are a photo of the...
