The true image

No filter but still a pretty picture

Real story's exposed with scratches

but I'd say it only makes me more richer

no not in money

but in wisdom buuddy

let me spare you all the details that are bloody

and get to where to point where I thought my life was funny

It was everyones joke

all I can think about ways to get myself to choke

or fill my room up with smoke

but this wasn't my fate

I knew I had to escape

I climbed out of that dark hole

and I wouldn't stop untill I reached my goal

During the stuggle I realized

"how have I forgetten who I am?"

why have I tried so hard to be someone people would idolized

If it meant I would  eventually lose my mind and spirit

but no that is not who I will be

Its not my destiny

Who am I?

Not a person who almost died

but someone who was reborn

and helps others who still mourn

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741