synthetic as the city.

June 20, 2012

My mind went blank and the words wouldn’t come out right.
All I could think of were the loud, busy streets
yelling at me as I used to walk,
Bellmont, Grand Avenue,  Michigan, and Van Buren.
The towering above me that felt like home.

And in a blink of my eyes, everything changed.
My buildings turned to fields,
my sights turned to memories.
Nothing ever stays the same.

I look around me and it’s like I’m seeing double.
Originality has long been forgotten
and determination only has one sole focus.
I fight to dream, I struggle to live
not only to survive, but to prosper.
I am me, and I am young, yet
I have seen a fair share of adversity.
Take my thoughts, take my words,
take me as a whole, or do not take me at all.
I could think all day and never get bored,
I could write pages and never run out of words.
If you asked me what I liked,
to you, my answers would be all wrong.
No one is supposed to like the color gray,
speaking the words others refuse to say, or
choosing to sit alone.
But I do. And does that make me wrong?
Is there a determined wrong and right?
Because all I know is that my city would never judge me.
But this town might.

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