A cry to be heard

I used to be a blossom

Filled with joy and simplicity

Waiting to see what will become of sweet, little me.

I would wonder what magic awaits for the rest of my journey. 

The possibilities of the greatness 

The chances of misery

The self fulfilling prophecies

Later I found that I was growing stronger 

No longer was I that dainty little flower

I was tall and strong and independent

The feeling of invincibility was solild in my chest 

But people kept using me

Life kept abusing me 

I thought I was the epitome of grounded

But I fell 

I am lost 

Waiting to be found

I am desperate

Trying to find an answer

I am crying

Screaming for help

I am melancholy

 And there is no one there to care

But I won't  be forever

And that changes everything

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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