//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.

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