This is hard. I'm trying to write a poem of the pain of the past, but alas, I strain my brain trying to explain, the pain, like a broken glass window pane. But the truth is, that time has passed and this poem makes it sound like I owe them the right to a voice. So I pretend on my end that I'm angry and try to force some thoughts of what happened to me like it's some astronomical catastrophe, but really its those events and pain that gave me the Self gain and respect that's made me this crazy And I wouldn't trade it. You see, I can go on a tangent where I say "just let me Vent," That these words were sent with the mission To represent all those that suffered like in some Convent, but my suffering is mine alone so I Don't need a clone speaking with the same tone like some recording on the phone. My past is Unique, just like yours, so there's no need to seek someone to speak what you think, for your Voice is louder and prouder th
Showing posts from May, 2016
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I've spoken with many people about the great opportunity that came from this. I never anticipated to ever have a college life. My family always told me to just start working to sustain myself, but when you are someone that lives for the arts, you don't care to sustain life, you want to create a purpose beyond a family. Here's to my BA that I hope to achieve before summer of 2017.