I would be rich.
I would have a dollar for every time someone who think they knew.
The truth you say?
But if they only knew.
Would she be so certain about her story?
Would he be so quick to place blame?
What about your friends, will they still be with you when all is told?
But these are the people that think they know.
I would be rich.
I would have a dollar every time they tell a lie about me.
They always got something to say.
But no facts at the end of the day.
They always got something to judge.
Like am excuse to hold a grudge.
They always got an opinion.
The last time I checked, it was my life and my decision.
But these are the people that think they know.
I can stand on the road, looking down it and counting.
The many people that claimed to come in peace.
As I was I walk looking at their faces and frowning.
Coming to the end of a term like a lease.
In your mind you may not care.
As I snap my fingers, saying
"Where were you, when I needed you?"
Silence and not one answer.
It's okay I'm the new me not the old her.
People are people.
As for me it time to go.
Leaving all the people behind that think they know.
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My Inner Me
PoetryLiterary poems that feature some of the experiences discussed in the novel "Connecting With My Inner Me".