Sometimes I wish I was feeble,
Not to be pushed around,
Or taken advantage of,
But so that I could cry,
Take out all the frustrations,
All the hatred,
All the ache and anguish,
Let it flow from my face,
Without a care,
Knowing nobody will look at me differently,
Look at me and talk under their breathes,

Seeing a cloud,

Forgetting it bears rain,
I want to be weak.

I hear people talk of enormity,
Wanting to be at the pinnacle,
Simply be amazing,
If only they knew,
It’s more of a maze,
A struggle to impress,
To find the balance
Between right and appropriate,
Having to act,
In order to maintain decorum,
Of what use is authority,
If I lose my authenticity?
I struggle with plenty,
And my life is one of them.

They say don’t dwell on the past,
But I find comfort in lessons,
If I live without leaving the past,
Then I have a reference,
A place to look back into,
A person to compare my growth to,
I judge,
And so expect to be judged,
So when I raise my head high,
I’m ready for the first hit,
I’ve fallen plenty of times,
I still have the dust and bruises to show,
It doesn’t take an army to win a war,
It takes resilience,
To make the enemy retreat,

And win a war.

About The One Potter

I'm not very different from the next writer. I'm extremely different. I don't just write, I live the life I write. I'd leave my number here for you but my email the1potter@gmail.com will suffice for now.
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1 Response to Untitled

  1. Pingback: Untitled | Son of a Rant: the1potter

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