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.