Some days, to the world,
I feel like
the fake drawers on bathroom cabinets
or the false pockets
on a suit's vest;
a reasonable addition
that looks like it belongs,
but what possible purpose
will i ever serve?
Some days, to the world,
I feel like
a thunderstorm with too little thunder
and too much rain
and no fathomable idea
what to do with all the lightening
growing inside me.
Some days, to the world,
I feel like
a book with no cover and a title page
that is torn;
I am filled with words...
but only those that care to read...
will ever understand..
what i am about...
Who I am..
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