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