Judge the book, Not the cover.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wrote this a few years ago, when i was 16, i was pretty much finding out who i was, all teenagers seem to take that vastly too seriously ^^ I had a beautiful spell of clinical depression in my younger years though; and i think this reflects a lot, as to sadly, the society kids nowadays grow up in. Being yourself, sadly, is the hardest path through education. But i'd rather be myself than follow a crowd or be something i'm not.

Submitted: July 16, 2012

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Submitted: July 16, 2012

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Im felling pretty dumb-struck;

As far as to say fucked up

Aligiance of the souls in mind

Contradicting notions intertwine.

Im feeling like i cant stop;

What's leading to a dead drop

Of consciounces coliding

And throughts-trains ever winding

A clouded recolection

Of things that that bring depression

To moods that sugggest otherwise

Its a mask, yet to corode in time

And leave me in a place of pain

With darkened clouds and hardened rain

I cant seem to break free from,

The people gettin me wrong

ever anticipated as a prick

who slits my wrists

and always sits

alone accopanied by none

well guess again

your always wrong

to try and think u know me

to force ur views upon me

ur not my goddamn friend see; 

how the fuck can u own me?

give me a sec, let me show three;

ways to show that i disagree

my wrists are free

from cuts and scars

least, they have faded, and now are,

see we go through things sometimes where;

we cannot deal with things, and i swear

if u mock us for the things we find,

somewhat more difficult in life

then u deserve, urself to be

prejudged, stereotyped and seen

as the "prick" in life, without a strive,

to be urself, find ur own lives

give credit, to those that deserve

the acknowldegement of always trying first


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