Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2020
Everyday, he says.
Everyday, he does.

He shoves ideas of greatness down into his soul,
Hoping it will make up for never knowing me at all.

Of course, knowing me distracts
So, let's not go there, kid.
No, just let me do my thing instead.

So I let him play and play,
Like the child he is.

And, still, no one knows me.
Jillian
Written by
Jillian  19/F/Tennessee
(19/F/Tennessee)   
30
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems