If the clouds went away,
far away from me,
they would continue
to rain on my parade.
Nobody should march to
the beat of someone else's drum;
I will always be a
disappointment to somebody.
They come they go-
the compliments and sacrifice.
How inconsistent
they always are.
How can I firmly
establish my identity,
when my identity
is what they disapprove of?
Jun 26, 2010
Jun 26, 2010 at 10:06 AM UTC
If the clouds went away,
far away from me,
they would continue
to rain on my parade.
Nobody should march to
the beat of someone else's drum;
I will always be a
disappointment to somebody.
They come they go-
the compliments and sacrifice.
How inconsistent
they always are.
How can I firmly
establish my identity,
when my identity
is what they disapprove of?
© Christopher Rossi, 2010