I am what you make of me,
I am what your eyes see then what your mind digests.
I am yellow but so often you like to paint me green.
You speak of my past as if you had lived it your self.
But you did not cry my tears nor did you laugh my laughs.
You did not play in the mud that made me dirty nor did you swim in the lakes that made me clean.
My past is mine a story that only I can tell so clear,
the consecuence is I that you so often want to let disappear.
I am and you are but a simple mystery,
yet you you do not let me simply be.
You decide before given a decision,
you hide behind the mock and the judgement.
You conclude and come to your conclusion so rapid that you miss resemblance.
And still you paint me green and still I am yellow.
My thoughts are mine not yours to take and then dismiss.
Not yours to tangle,
not yours to kill.
A master a judge in the kingdom of your own, you do not command in mine I can do that for my self.
Let me simple be imperfect and unique,
you can take me as I am or leave me happy in the stream.
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Author: hharding23 (Online Online)
Published: August 27th, 2016 11:57
Category: Unclassified
Views: 0
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Read more at: A simple mystery Poem, by hharding23, at My poetic side http://mypoeticside.com/show-poem-60435#ixzz4IYM0hm3J