Sweet Life of Mine

Dear Dream of mine,

My life flashes by in a ray of colors,

with so many frames and images that pass on.

they aren't just pictures, they are masterpieces of water color, a work of art,

filled with deep meaning, with every stroke made

as they are drawn.

Every day gets harder,yet I still try.

you push me to the very peak until I have reached the end

thinking that I will give up eventually,

admitting defeat,making it easier for you to bend me

to your every command.

But I know you are wrong.

You choose to see what you see,

choosing to break me down

Piece,by piece

Day, by day

Week, after wretched week

Making sure I forget what it means to feel free!

 

The tears that I shed,Does not define

Weakness,

But it defines the emotions I feel deep within me

 

I do my best impression of a smile.

But behind that smile there is as Superwomen

waiting to be freed,

But the enemy chains her down to the world

making me not easy to read.

no matter how many time the hero cries out loud,

She cannot be heard from her chained up world.

She remains behind my clouded eyes,

her screams are muffled by the tears I cry,

as if I had already died,

silently in the dead night.

 

Yes,sometimes I cry.

But that doesn’t mean I am not strong enough

to reach up.

Everyday I try,

I try to reach up high,

Higher and higher,

Until I've reached the golden cup.

 

My little dream, I have already passed the test,

But Still I cannot rest

for there is one final mess that cannot give up on the fact that

I have already won

and I am ready to win again.

 

Yeah,sometimes I failed.

Sure I've tripped, and fell

we’ve all lost our balance.

but I am not a picture frame

nailed tightly to a wall,

I move around because

I have a grip on my reality,

using my talents to stay on target

 

I improve my weaknesses,

and find better ways to improve

the improved.

 

I put effort into my work to

be the best.

Please little dream, just give it a rest

For effort is the Siamese twin of success

 

I cut out purple hearts and sew them

together with my veins

because I know, as a girl, I have

the strength to look back at my

wounds and see them as scars,

and yes

I still have jars of wounds to heal

But that doesn’t matter.

 

These tears show how much I

have held in after all these,

years of being strong.

 

For too long, I have not cried,

telling lies,saying I'm fine,

and not to worry about it.

 

Sometimes I cry

But….

No,it’s not because I'm weak

Little dream,

Its because you have shown me that I

can’t be strong

forever.

This poem is about: 
Me
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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