Sometimes I feel like what is the purpose?
Is life worth living if you're considered worthless in this superficial world where I provide no service.
Who wants to be invited to my mind if on the surface I am cursed and This cursive in my pen is my only friend. These verses expressed cure my introverted. These lines unrehearsed, leaking from insecurities. Help me cope with being so unpretty. I heard that we are visual people, and I'm invisible, beholders don't see my beauty. You are blind to my existence, I don't count in your census, I don't have a say, I'm not equal, who cares about my opinion? All I receive is the hate, the heat, the names, the beats, your words, I think I'm ugly. Either I'm nothing or I'm a pinata, hit me hard, your treat, you make them laugh as I fall to my feet, defeated. Who cares? I'm not attractive and the world adores aesthetics. The worlds my idol, I can't escape, I'm a slave, your the master, I count as one-fourth a vote. Barely heard when my words are spoke. That's why I hope you hear the poem I wrote. Because I really need you to know this is how I cope with being so unpretty.-
Author:
lanaevans (
Offline) - Published: April 14th, 2017 00:03
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 44
Offline)
Comments1
Well written and expressed Great write
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