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Who am I?Who Am I?Do you know?Im serious, do you?Cause I dont have a clue.I could be like a tiny, caged bird,Or a tiny flower, engulfed in the forest,Or even a piece of driftwood, washed ashore.Im one small piece of a huge puzzle,Im a lost cause among many,To you, I am, anyway.Do you know me?Do I know me?Who am I?I knowOne thingAbout myselfAnd its really hardTo express to you like this..But here it goes anyways, okay?The one thing I do know for sure is this:I am most definitely, and absolutely,And perfectly, and wholly
And doubtlesslyIn deep love
With you.I am.
Wake up callI hate it when the teachers favourAnother student over the class.I hate it when its unequal labourAnd handed out to kids of the world.I hate it when technology bustsAnd ruins my thoughts of writing.I hate it when my heart lustsFor the things I can never reach.I hate when I cant express thingsLike my feelings into words.I hate it when my heart singsAnd I cant share that simple love.I hate it when im utterly silentWhen I cant speak my mind.But I hate it more when I ventAnd no ones hears my words.I hate it when im invisibleI hate it when im aloneI hate it when my voice carriesOnly a few inches into the loamBut I what I hate the most
What kills me inside and out.Is the fact that from coast to coastThere are people just like me
And those who turn deaf earsOn our silent, pitiful cries.The world needs our fearsTo be their wake up call.
the Infantpen poised above paperpupils penetrate poor soulssining in sorrows not shallowsignalling for salvation in dirtdug by disgusting decimalsdeep and dreary a drumless beatbreathless or broken beingsbeneath butter and creamcountries caught in crossfireconsuming in crushing moundsme myself and moremeekly maximizing prayerpen poised above paperpupils penetrate poor souls.