//a weekly series of short proses written in different perspectives//
I could pretend that I know
Why I could have everything but still feel so low.
But because I’m feeling cynical I’d rather pretend it’s not enough
Than to admit it’s because I’m feeling rough.
Why would I talk about how bad I’m feeling
When it’s a competition to you all
To compete on who has suffered most of all
Something so idiosyncratic, now makes people feel unworthy and small.
So I don’t fit into your typical mould,
But I’d rather live bold than be controlled.
In this game called life, I’ll never be sold
Because how can such a thing be measured in gold?
Death and rebirth,
Isn’t something that can simply just be told
And so I’ll let my actions affirm and uphold.