The Real Me -------------------------------------------
The Real Me:
I’m always being told to be more perfect
Always being told to be more like your sisters
Always being told to socialize with the family
Always being told to go somewhere I don’t want to go
But you always listen to other points of views but mine
Always criticize what I happen to be doing
Always thinking there’s more to what I do alone
Always complain because I stay in my room all day and night
What about my thoughts
What about my dreams
A writer’s own personal mind is his own
You don’t know whats in my mind
You don’t know how I feel toward certain things
You don’t know the real me
Because you don’t take the time to understand who I am
Im not the little girl you use to push on the swing anymore
Im not the little girl who ran to you because she scrapped her knee anymore
Im not the little girl who needs her parents every step of the way anymore
Im the 16 year old girl you’ve never met
You’ve never been close enough to read me
You’ve never once heard who I want to be
Because you don’t know the real me
The real me wants her own thoughts to go wild
The real me needs her time to be alone from the world
The real me only immerges when no one is around
And when I only wanted to be heard for so many years
No one listened to me
Not about my hopes
Not about my dream
Not even about who I am
So I turned to the 2 things I live life for these days
Pencil & Paper
If you would have taken time these last 3 years
You would understand the life and world I come from now
You would understand why I do not participate in your ‘activities’
You would see my world thru your eyes and understand
Seeing where I come from
And why I live the way I do
I do it because my thoughts always sound better on paper
Because it takes the huge burden off my shoulders
Because writing is my passion
Because writing is who I am
When I am frustrated I write
When I need someone to talk to I write like I am so lost
When I feel so lifeless so alone so forgotten and so dark
The only thing there for me is writing
You haven’t been there in years
You want me to be with you guys and talk to you all
But I can’t because I can’t talk to people anymore
No ones been there for me so I shut down
I let go of all the spunk happiness and excitement
They’ve been gone for so long now
And all the sudden you realize im finally gone
I can see you’re trying to talk to me
But I don’t understand you
You speak in a way I have long forgotten and don’t remember
You speak in a way I can’t comprehend
You speak in a way you want me to be
But I can’t do that because you don’t know the real me.
its good really it is its not very matured not saying its immature but its in the stage of heart break and wanting to die poems there all common,for me i saw myself in your poem it brought back alot to me.i always ran to writing to escape.but i guess since i like poems that make me sit and think and has alot of twist that make youread between the lines.but it was good and clear and upfront and .good job
Submission Name: The Real Me
