The Truth about

My life was a chalkboard, black and white.

Pictures drawn by day,

Erased by night.

My life was a mirror.

It went only one way,

but failed to show the better parts of me.

My life went to a standstill,

my faith was shaken.

The heart in my hands,

so close to breaking.

I became a fighter,

and fought myself.

Lost every fight,

battered and bruised,

to get up again.

The person I am,

Who I want to be,

is tearing me up,

It’s breaking me.

I am a person,

and I bleed red too.

I am a person,

not much different from you.

I have learned, that not everything is black and white.

Some things have color.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And that’s alright.

This poem is about: 
Me

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