Maybe I'm not what people like
I don't have what people wants
I'm not even at least what I want.
I'm just walking through halls
and meeting people everywhere
feeling rejection is devastating.
Now I'm all exhausted
from trying to be or not being
for being what others expect;
but this game ended long ago.
I'm little by big steps
walking through changes
doing and getting done.
Now, I harvest things I don't want
I don't know my path
no one showed me nothing
I need to pass through;
force it, maybe, don't matter.
Exhausted from nothing
willing for so much
giving away life each time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i just understand what you say, sometimes -no, really almost at all times- I feel that way... let us change this together my dear friend, ok? Sincerely, Sofia. ^^