I have legos,
I have toys,
I have videogames,
I have food,
But barely any is what I need or want.
I am spoiled,
I am insulted,
They are kind,
Then they are sour,
They are ok with me
Then they hate me,
My parents,
My aunt and uncle,
They adopted me,
I don't know if the care for me,
They give me stuff,
The reason to shut me up,
I wonder if I just need some attention.
Maybe a childhood.
But no.
It's too late.
My life rate: I can't.
I won't.
I don't,
Because I have my future in mind.
Leave everything behind.
I'll be an author,
Maybe a poet,
I haven't actually tried to write deep poetry,
I just make little rhymes,
Telling my troubles,
But why should anyone care?
My kindness and hate are both not rare.
Life isn't fair.
Saying that doesn't make it better.
I am definitely not grateful for what made my life go like this.  
But at least I didn't experience some types of business.
Life, destiny, fate, god, myself, everybody else.
I am not grateful,
If you made me as dead inside as I am.
All I have left is self-pride.
Even that's corrupted and terrible.
My ungratefulness is unbearable.
Why do people think it's still careable?

She's tired,
MIT hired,
That is aspired,
For her I am dire,
As she is my fire,
This is as usual,
Easily confusable,
For being unique,
Like a life's peak,
But this rarity is weak,
This is common in the week,
My like/love for her will leak,
Sometimes through her eyes,
I can see beauty and peace,
She walks as elegant as a fleece,
Admiration is what I release,
Because nothing more is allowed,
Her singing shows wide and proud,
With her hair as soft as a cloud...
This can be you,
A man grateful with you as their boo,
Or maybe not,
Just don't be a thot,
If you are alone,
Your still beautiful on your own.

When you want their soul,
What personality they take on,
As their life's special tole,
Look into their eyes.
Of course,
I am basing this off of somebody,
But this is for everybody
Gift this following to a person you like:
Eyes so precious,
Even on the inside luscious,
I wouldn't take a brush to this,
Your already art,
A sculpture in part,
You make anyone whole,
Make their heart beat from the start,
A shard of glass,
Giving the sun pass,
And outshine a rainbow,
Stream of joy from head to toe,
You make my jaw drop,
From the top to bottom,
A work of fiction,
Imagination's beauty,
The imperfect
Yet perfect,
Depiction.

Puberty,
May be a reason.
But wondering gay or straight,
Is in my mind treason.
My body says gay,
But my soul says straight.
My mind says ignore it,
But which do I want to date?
Is it ok, to have need to be gay,
But have a want to be straight.
It's the opposite for most,
But for me I boast,
That I want to be straight, not gay.
If you are gay,
Tell me...
Is being straight okay?

I do some weird things.
I say some weird things.
I am bored and looking for a reaction.
My habits floored and looking for a faction.
I haven't had anyone to hang out with since I was seven.
And that best friend was exiled when I was eleven.
So now I wait.
Ponder what it would be like in heaven.
Then I state.
I am annoying and irritating, disgusting and rude.
Smart alic, stupid, and never really a dude.
I wish I was better, not so crude.
But I have not pushed past my limits,
So I stay in a feud.
Each thing I do only in a mood.
I have no real friends,
Problems without that being pursued.
I mean I have nobody I hang out with.
Probably nobody who to me wouldn't have a doubt with.
I think I can just go without this.
But I don't know if this loneliness is what I am about with.
I try to talk an make jokes.
Yet I am not funny, and my ideas are just yolks.
I am not relate-able.
Just debatable.
And for most people.
Disliked and seen as unstable.

Why can't I get a girl?
Talk about a girl?
Be in that swirl?
Let my boyness unswirl?
Why do I kind of act femenine?
Why can't I relate?
What is my fate?
I have already figured it out.
I have figured out myself.
It is to to stop waiting.
No more being an overgrown sprout.
I have to change.
I can meet anyone like me,
That isn't good,
I can't fight me,
I cannot right me,
Or write me,
What I see,
In the ocean blue,
A cloud running out of view,
I know how you feel,
I am talking to myself,
I am mentally unstable,
I need help.
Even the truest emotions I show,
Are not true,
I don't care,
What are you,
Be whatever,
Just not biast,
And if your not likable,
Don't be a denialist,
I am sorry,
Say that enough for a ferrari,
Why can't I,
Have the muscle,
Have the heart,
Have the brain,
Have the whole cart,
Why is everyone else,
So much better than me?
I wonder this,
Yet it is so clear to see....
Why can't I.

You know racism.
Stereotypes.
But doesn't it ****.
When you realize.
That in the situation.
It actually fits them.
I thought it wasn't supposed to.
I thought it wasn't true.
But then again.
Why would they make them?
If it didn't happen?
Judging others.
Said to be a dumb fence.
But when it's true.
Does that mean it's an offense?
People of another race.
Are usually rude to me.
I am white.
Also Puertorican.
But who would think I was?
And who they was.
Isn't that unfair.
That they were what is thought as bad as a swear.
What can you do?
When bad stereotypes and actions.
Just keeps passing down.
It makes me frown.
Makes me feel like.
Being open-minded.
Is just a clown.
I don't like it when it's true.
It makes those people who say it is.
Not just a rue.
I am not going to be like them of course.
But it is annoying.
When it's as true as the source.

I wonder,
If a positive life,
Is really true,
If someone could really,
Have that view,
But still go through,
Terrible realizations,
Facts and opinions,
Negative situations,
And still understand,
Feel sympathy,
Even feel empathy,
While still being positive,
Not being attracted,
Towards the dark,
Or negative,
Not be affected,
Or being effected,
By life experiences.
To a person like this,
I cannot understand,
Nor feel hope,
From the very idea,
Or thought,
Of this lifestyle,
But I have a want or wonder if you are real,
And I feel the need,
To know you are,
That may give me a seed,
A temporary hope,
A nice mirage,
That will help temporarily cope,
With my existence,
For a little while.

Here was a test,
And here was my failure.
As my random grows stronger,
And my kindness goes paler.
People I knew,
I considered friends,
Two kids who were nice,
Friendly in deep ends,
I said something terrible.
I feel guilty,
It's unbearable.
It made more then one thing crack,
My voice and my hope with one wack,
It's one thing I lack,
Patience,
Everyday.
I must think before I say.
Though I don't get better anyway,
So skip from day to day,
It's why I say I try,
Because when I promise I will,
I'm singing an old lie,
I did come to cry,
Give my life a sigh.
'Cause I said something racist.
Unprovoked.
And I don't know why.