Whyy?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
me wondering about a few things in poem form i guess..

Submitted: August 11, 2012

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Submitted: August 11, 2012

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why cant people realize how smart or beautiful or handsome they are? 

why dont they see what we see? 

why cant they see how perfect they are to everyone, 

or how much everyone cares about them?

 

they see themselves as this lowlife that no one cares about

 

they dont see a good reason to live

 

they would never think they are perfect

 

they dont think anyone would give a damn if they were gone

 

why should i think im pretty or amazing?

 

why cant you see me the way i do?

 

why cant you see that im not asking for attention,

 

or pity because maybe i dont want them to care about me?

 

yet people never take the time to listen

 

they never actually care

 

all they do is make you feel bad for showing them the reality of the world

 

why cant people see you and everything else the way you want them to?

 

why cant things be perfect?

 

or at least okay?

 

i wish everyone was happy

 

and nothing was ever wrong

 

but wishes never really come true

 

or do they?

 

do they just come too late?

 

or is it something more..?


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Whyy?

Poem / Poetry

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