Nobody is Perfect. I am Nobody. Perfect.

 

Nobody is perfect. I’m Nobody. Perfect.

contradiction leaves me hurting.

Beneath the surface, my purpose is complex, that's for certain.

I'm struggling with the weight of this burden.

I'm trying to have faith, though my fate is uncertain.

 

What of my soul? It's not whole.

There is this empty fucking hole, where I hold,

all these worries, dreams and hopes,

where my conscious stream unfolds.

 

This POV is bound to me,

it has endless valleys and boundless peaks.

I feel like I’m falling for forever; so, the ground I seek.

I’m hoping tomorrows doesn’t mean never and all I've found is bleak.

I'm hoping that tomorrow just gets better, so, from the ground, I leap.

Sound the horns! They pound through me.

My heart beats with the sound, It’s so loud it bleeds,

with purpose so profound, it screams.

Until I can’t breathe and I can’t speak,

and it’s so powerful, it empowers me.

And I vibrate, and the ground shakes, around my feet.

Before I know it, I charge into everything I’ve been battling.

 

Someone, please save the date, I brave the day, valiantly,

And I rescue me, gallantly,

And I proclaim victory,

and celebrate being Nobody.

 

A queen with no subjects and no luxuries.

A paper crown, cardboard throne,

And no one to throw roses at my feet.

A beautiful symphony playing for rows of empty seats.

A 12-course feast that no one will get to eat.

hidden mystery, plain as the eyes can see.

 

And these eyes are so bloody, I'm so tired, from so many, 

Nights I lay awake, thinking about Nobodies.

Only Time will be the end of me,

of my memories, and all who thought I was worth remembering.

Yet, only time will remember me.

It's bittersweet.

I am nobody. Nobody is perfect.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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