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Who were you to say I was ugly And that the way I looked was wrong. You decided that I didn't fit And told me I didn't belong.
She makes up her hair, in perfect dispair. Her eyes lit for love, when she's faking. In her heart, Many secret stars. She can't wait to show, what she's taking.
If only the world revolved around me. If only I had the entire human population running around after me. If only I was royalty. If only I lived in a big palace.
Everyone thought they knew her... Her look, her smile, her gaze. But everything she did was fake. Living life is a series of plays. As she unfolded her personality, People horrored, and ran with...
Do all people know you. I'm sure that is not true. I may not be a great writer. But I know I know stuff people don't. They don't me until they've met me. I don't know them until I've met them.
Can you define me. Am I normal, am I creative. Am I trying to be more than I am. Do people see the quiet guy and judge me for my solitude.
No time to fret, The spotlight is set, Every eye on you, Watching what you do, You have no flaw, Leaving them in awe, You are the main attraction, Doing all the action, Perfect, None suspect, You...
I wish I was liked, 'stead of shunned like a disease. I wish I wasn't controlled, and could do as I please. I wish I was the best, and everyone looked up to me.
Ask me what I'm thinking, Ask me who I am. Ask me if I've lost my mind, Of sanity, I'm not a fan. I can assure you, you don't know me, So please don't assume a thing.
I was a melody, Flowing beautifully, peacefully , calm... I am no more a parody, Thinking as more than caught in my palm. But what am I saying.
It doesn't matter who we are...it matters not who others see in us, how much ever they may love you or you may love them. And neither is it, who people think you are going to be.
"I don't know what London's coming to—the higher the buildings the lower the morals." Noël Coward 1899-1973. Most of the time I'll refer to where I live as "the city within a city".
In a whirlwind of numbness, there is nothing but madness this pen is my release, the ink it is my blood everything I see and everything I do haunts my life, my everyday it tells me I am...
Light and dark Two halves a whole I look into My deepest soul To see if I Am night or day To see if I can find my way Rebellion Catches my ire I have the urge To stoke the fire I am...
Walk past, you never hear me. Walk past, you do not see me. Your eyes glance through me, Your eyes, ebony and violet. The ghost, the draft of a story. The ghost, a see though figure.
Behind a mask of happiness You strut; Creating the "ideal" person: A "living" picture. The supposed pinnacle of elegance, and perfection.
The reply to @leelee101 "Nick" So you think you have not seen me. Do you think that this is true. For you have always walked with me, as I have always walked with you.
Just stop one second. Take the time to look and hear Before you apply your usual, Customary judgement Just what exactly do you fear. Is it the inexplicable.
Where are you from. They ask, Where do you come from. Disinterested and polite Small talk to fill small gaps. But I stop. Phase out. They think me simple As my clouded eyes glaze Where am I from.
Hey dearies. I haven't been around too much as I've spent the last two days working on art exams, it's been fun but I have also had withdrawal from my absence on here.
Hey dearies. I haven't been around too much as I've spent the last two days working on art exams, it's been fun but I have also had withdrawal from my absence on here.
From the day you first live It is easy to think That life would forgive That you painted me pink. An innocent child At the age of just two Thaught that life would be mild When you painted it blue.
(Part fiction. Part not.) How do you define what a hero is. Is it a measure of power, skill or prowess, or is it character.
They wear make-up because they want to look pretty. They wear expensive clothes because they want to look rich. They wear tan because they want to look cosmopolitan.