My Own

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  • Childhood

    My Own
    Have you ever felt as though
    Your name is not your own?
    I guess it's one of those feelings
    You feel when you are grown
    I may not be grown,
    But my feelings are surely my own.
    Maybe when I am grown
    This feeling will dissapear.
    And I shall not fear
    The worry of
    My name not being
    My own.

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    the1uvbeenw8in4’s Poems (24)

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