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. |