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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Other · #1828392
This is a poem about metamorphosis.
Icy, cold and lonely
Waiting for someone
To come and save me

Why so much pity
For myself alone
Why feel so shitty?

I am right,
Not he or they or it,
Why then this night

Am I the one
Left alone
to feel my pity

Why do I feel this pity?
It has no reason,
No right to be here
I call treason!

It is planted,
With good reason
To make me feel
Like I supplanted

A good and decent thing
That wasn’t bad
Or sad in any way,
Or even a bit controlling

But I know the truth
Of what it had become
Don’t lie to me
For your own sake
I know your soul is black as death,

And no more pity will I feel
I am strong and refuse to bow
Before your manipulation,
Castration, deprivation.

I am strong, will be strong,
must be strong.
Not only for my sake, but for yours as well.

I am the tree that stands before the might of a hurricane,
no longer,
I am but a simple bud beginning to bloom,
delicate, and beautiful,
with an amazing potential.

Waiting for the perfect gardener,
no longer.
I am perfect, as I am,
no more pity,
no more anger,
no more power.

Be shameless in what you are,
who you are,
what you want,
what is right - or wrong.

Give no power to those who seek it.
Give only to yourself what is rightfully yours.


© Copyright 2011 Zutrauen (saint_ketur at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1828392-Icy