I’m not a poet…

I remember the exact day I wrote this poem. I was never big into poetry…I don’t consider myself a poet. But this day, I was driving home from work and my sister and I were talking all about our childhood. It was a random conversation and she was doing most of talking. And as she was talking, I could just feel the words tumbling around inside my head. The moment I pulled in the garage, I locked myself in my office and wrote this poem….


How do you get back to the way you were meant to be?

When society and bullshit has manipulated you so easily.

Trapped in a mind never designed for you,

constantly fighting the inner battle that’s clouding your view

Knowing every one was born to be something,

hoping and wishing that your time is coming,

Always looking this way and that,

tired of wearing the suit that never truly fit-that’s a fact

Wondering, pondering…consumed by that ever present feeling

A thought that constantly has you reeling.

Can you imagine a life where you’ve never been allowed to be you?

Each day looking bleaker and more blue.

All you want to know is who you really are, 

already aware that the real you is watching from afar.

How do you get back to the way you were meant to be?

One day.

One day.

One day…you will be FREE.

image taken from Pixabay

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