Well, I'm no doubt quite shy
and I smile with a sigh.
I'm a poet, I freestyle
and sometimes I'd rather rhyme.
The thoughts I ruminate on in mind
makes me shudder.
Sometimes unholy
Sometimes holy
Sometimes they spill over
whenever my wandering feet meet a pebble
and I stumble head over hips
words rolling, one against the other
even when I don't mean them to quill.
Being me ain't no easy feat
I cringe at the sight of me
mirroring another to be.
I may not be perfect like you'll love me be
but I'm completely, perfectly, and incandescently
happy to be me.
Being me ain't no easy feat,
all my opinions and idiosyncrasies
might not tally with the popular ones,
the ones you uphold as absolute and divine,
well, they're fine by me.
It matters little whether or not you agree.
Being me ain't no easy feat,
when melancholy breathes on me
I break out into a random song
and run fingers on imaginary a keyboard
from the belly of my heart I moan and cry
and then look up and around
itching to hear an accompanying voice,
yours in harmonious melody
but what I hear is my own voice
flung back at me in ominous symphony.
And when no one sings along
I just stare off awkwardly
into space
and smile and say
"at least I still can sing
even when life stinks".
Poetry is my super power
I still sleep with drafts by my side
and I'm not ashamed
when mamma yells 'your bed's in disarray'
I still raise my shoulder high
and walk on a thin blue line
but I'm bemused and by myself
when folks crawl into my shell
with wishes to be like me.
Being me ain't no easy feat
don't desire to be like me.
I'm not done being me.
Be yourself, proudly.
