Aspirations

They want to see me, in what filter? I may never know.

They want to know me. To what extent? Only God can show.

Was I ever taught adulthood, if I was, could I show... my dreams, aspirations, things that I barely know.

I want things, almost  too many for the brain to fathom. In the end, but they call me Madame?

For this I do not know, to you I do not owe any explanation, if I’m being completely honest do I know my aspirations? Well, I guess I will find out as I go.

This poem is about: 
Me

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