As I travel the world of literary
I've experienced a lot and learned a lot too
Until I found myself trying to do everything I've read
Trying to make what people tell me to do
Trying to fit in the world I thought I should
I tried everything without realizing what it might cost me
I forgot my own kind of writing
And I tried the way others do
I forgot my own words and lines
I tried to write and sound like them too
I ignored my own feelings
And I tried to feel what they feel
I fooled myself making me believe this is the way it should be
I started to think about things like "support" and "popularity"
I forgot what was I really wanted to be
I tried every genre
I force myself to use languages I'm not even good at using
I tried everything to be recognized
And I put in my mind the things like, "My poem should be like this.
It should have this, and this, and that..."
I've forgotten about my old self
The one who just wanted to write about her feelings
And let the papers lessen the pain
I've tried to fit in a world where
I thought I really belong
I tried to impress people without thinking about the real me
What was really the reason why I started to write?
I forgot it wasn't all about those things like "people's attention".
Back then, I just wanted to write
No more. No less.
But right now
I am lost in the world of letters and lines
Because I desperately tried to fit in them
But never will I.
