Imprecise
There's opinions everywhere, they always seem to find me though. I walk with my head held high, I don't let my past define me. I feel the way eyes stare at me as I try to reach my goals and dreams. I may be small, be it doesn't stop me. I come from a society where people like me, are doubted. Everyone looking in, all they see are the fights and gang affliations, they don't see the hard work some of us do. Not everyone in my community is the epitome of the word "ghetto" that critics like to use. The sky isn't the limit, I can achieve much more. Sometimes you gotta put yourself on a pedastool, but don't let it consume you. Use that higher power to bring up those around you. We're all imperfect, but that's okay. Just don't let the spectator define who you are.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.