The Circle

Location

I stand in the middle-

of  a cicle.

We all stand there-

I suppose.

All around there are millions, trillions, zillions-

googolplex paths I could have chose.

 

But I am unsure, so-

I wait there.

I watch others-

moving on.

The made-up-girl preps prance down the tiled path-

the smokers and the drinkers, gone.

 

They start filing out-

group by group.

I observe them-

to seek mine.

I'm standing to wonder after all these hours-

where my pure skin will be to shine.

 

I see the flawless go-

they fade away.

That is not me-

don't follow.

I, the brave original, will not copy-

I am not to be so hollow.

 

I spin around looking-

where to go.

I don't agree-

with some trails.

Percieving ways I find, acceptance is prime-

I don't have to use other's sails.

 

So here I stand In the middle of this whole.

Pure as frozen water is my skin, and also my soul.

My confidence is the key-

to the wide world I'm entering.

I prefer to enter as natural me.

And with this thought I begin my venturing...

 

 

 
 
This poem is about: 
Me
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