Just Me.

I am not a cheerleader.

I am not on a team.

I don't have any honors,

Let's not be mean.

I have my passions,

And you may not understand,

Certain hobbies fasten,

Themselves to my hands.

Through art I express,

Myself in many ways.

Through books I can dream,

And it goes on for days.

When I act I am not me,

And that is okay.

I am someone else,

Bringing to life their day.

But my favorite of all,

Is what keeps me going.

It may seem small,

But don't judge without knowing.

It's stuck in my head,

And takes over my feet.

So many new voices,

And people to meet.

A new story to share,

And have and to hold.

So many people that care,

Whether young or old.

It flows through my body,

And escapes my lips.

I can't help but get excited.

"This is it!"

When I am on stage,

With my audience out there,

I feel like I am complete.

And I can sing without a care.

Yes this small part me,

Though different in many ways,

Is music, you see,

And it gets me through dark days.

Where would I be,

Without Whitaker by my side?

Or Sheeran or Grande?

They help me through my stride.

I also have to thank the boys,

They were first you see.

John, Ringo, George and Paul.

I don't like bugs, but they still touched me.

So now that you know,

This little part of me,

I hope you can understand,

And I hope you can see.

So do me a favor.

Just a small one please?

Don't try to alter my spirit.

Accept it. Just me.

This poem is about: 
Me

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