Who Am I?

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I got bored. HAHAHAH nah. People have been telling me that I'm a little twisted, a little different from who i am, and I was trying to sort out my thinking. This poem is a little wonky, because I wanted to portray a crazy thinking.

WHO AM I:

There's always one question I'm asked,

And that is who am I?

Am I a competitor, not to be last,

Or a damsel gazing at the moon with sigh?

They say I have two sides to me,

To incomprehensible faces.

A little angel, delicate and sweet?

A meteor, fast, swift, it blazes.

Am I loud, and brightly coloured?

Dramatic, flashy, dazzling?

Gentle words are something I never utter,

Insults and offence, I'm past caring.

Am I sensitive and security starved?

Timid, afriad, a downright coward?

Fear is always on my lips, courage is tough,

I take in mindless spite with hurt.

Am I level-headed with a dark side?

Bipolar, dark with bright, funny and lame?

I am all but resistent to the fashion tide.

I make my own statements, myself to blame.

Am I a little freaky, a little mad?

Unchained by gravity, brain unwired?

I laugh at pain and smiles being sad,

Explode with energy, and then I tire.

People ask me who I am,

I tell them I don't know.

Maybe I am as pure as an orange lamp,

Maybe I'm sinking far too low.

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