Carbon Copy Poem by nicola burkett
Carbon Copy
I’m tired of being
What you want me to be
A miniature you
A perfect carbon copy
Smothered with rules
On how I’m supposed to breath
The life I wish to have is dead
The loss of life I grieve
How am I supposed to live?
How am I to learn?
My mistakes my rewards
I would like to earn
I do not wish to walk
In your tatty worn out shoes
Instead the path I take
I would like to choose
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 9:55:57 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I dont think your mother will like this one Great write Ian