Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Why is there such thing as pressure? Social pressure, air pressure, blood pressure, peer pressure, sinus pressure, life pressure We are pressured by every element ever created yet I am not a diamond I am not a sparkling gem I am not perfect But I am something I am a soul in a body that isn't truly mine and a pine tree in the middle of a cornfiepld and a bird who has to be fed by it's mother because it doesn't know how to live on it's own; I am the waves that crash into the shoreline and I am the duckling who is always left behind and I am the broken voice who never yelled hallelujah because I didn't believe I could; I am a guitar that is improperly tuned and a book whose spine is destroyed and I am the child who yelled for her father that never came; I am a unfinished painting and a crooked portrait and the broken record player that repeats the same groove over and over and over; Yet I am not perfect, because if I was I would be able to answer your question but I can't and if I could, I know wouldn't be able to stand here and tell you who I truly am
0
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
Pressure
Why is there such thing as pressure? Social pressure, air pressure, blood pressure, peer pressure, sinus pressure, life pressure We are pressured by every element ever created yet I am not a diamond I am not a sparkling gem I am not perfect But I am something I am a soul in a body that isn't truly mine and a pine tree in the middle of a cornfiepld and a bird who has to be fed by it's mother because it doesn't know how to live on it's own; I am the waves that crash into the shoreline and I am the duckling who is always left behind and I am the broken voice who never yelled hallelujah because I didn't believe I could; I am a guitar that is improperly tuned and a book whose spine is destroyed and I am the child who yelled for her father that never came; I am a unfinished painting and a crooked portrait and the broken record player that repeats the same groove over and over and over; Yet I am not perfect, because if I was I would be able to answer your question but I can't and if I could, I know wouldn't be able to stand here and tell you who I truly am
nikilee
Written by
23/F/American
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem