2AM Thoughts

thoughts of an insomniac

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17. Society's made me a fraud.

*Disclaimer: This is a joke.*

I've read a couple of poems,

scrolled through Tumblr for a good hour,

cast an eye over Google's sappiest quotes,

browsed a thesaurus, cos it's hip,

and suddenly I think I'm a poetess.

 

So I'm writing metaphors that don't make sense,

and scattering big words wherever I think it looks like they can go.

Blowing my own trumpet, and I've never even picked up an instrument in my life.

I guess it's all about perspective in the end.

But not everyone is as talented, and as trippy as me.

And it really isn't my fault you'll never be a flower child.

I've got short hair,

a face that a nose ring will suit,

and height that can be pulled off as cute.

 

I make flower crowns for myself,

and wear massive glasses that are the size of my face.

 

My jeans are loose,

and I've only got clothes of oranges and yellows.

 

I'm a rejector of the established culture,

and I turn my nose up at the norm.

I'm a nonconformist,

progressive,

a bleeding heart,

a drifter,

and a free spirit.

 

I stare at sunsets and know I'm secretly part of nature.

The woods are my real home.

A lone wolf if you like.

 

I'm a daydreamer because it gives me character.

I eat falafel and couscous whenever I can,

and have strawberries out of jars for breakfast.

 

I've got a mattress for a bed,

And feathery dream catchers hanging off my wall.

There's a board full of Polaroid pictures on a shelf in my room.

 

I leave a trail of leaves behind wherever I g,

and have tattoos drawn out of henna all over my body.

 

Pumpkin spiced anything is life,

and it's something to be worshipped.

 

I believe life is about recreation and reflection,

and that expensive means trendy.

 

I study the philosophies of yoga to ensure myself the highest level of conciousness,

on a day to day basis.

 

I will always be young and free.

Wild and a self owner.

 

Edgy triangles are my shape.

And all of this means that,

I'll write poetry

And no one can tell me it's not real,

because I don't conform to what poetry is supposed to be like.

 

Because poetry can be anything.

 

And I believe a bunch of outlandish words

listed

out,

is

real

art.

 

Society is trying to make me something I'm not.

Follow a culture that doesn't define me.

But I have no identity.

I'm a kindred,

and I was born a protestor.

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