When people see me
They see a hollow figurine,
Painted black and white,
To be pushed to the side
The second a better one arrives.
They see an empty room,
Gray and dull,
To be filled with boxes of the thoughts of others
Or to walk through, to get to a more exciting one.
But I am not a figurine, nor am I room.
I am a human, for now.
And I am afraid,
Not only of growing up,
But of staying young forever.
I am afraid
That I’ll never work up the courage
To write the poem of my life
In the pages of other people’s notebooks,
Or that they will never bother to read it.
I am afraid
That the already cluttered room of my mind
Will one day be too full of other people’s boxes
To hold any more boxes of my own.
I am not a figurine, nor am I a room.
I am a human, for now.
But one day,
If no one picks me up anymore,
I’ll turn into that hollow figurine.
If no one helps me unpack my own boxes,
I’ll become that dull gray room.
And there’s no coming back from that...
This is so good, aww, and I've learnt that poetry is something from what you feel and using that vulnerability really brings and draws in your reader, this was just an amazing piece of work. Love it < 3
RyanAndrews Thank you. As you can probably tell by reading that, I don't open up to people very much. This was a really nerve-racking thing to create. I'm glad you enjoyed. (: