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Peter Watkins Jun 2014
Have this feeling inside.
It's bright; why does it hide?
The darkness scares it away.
It's around and in me anyway.
I'm potential for such good,
yet evil still resides inside...

It's unexplainable, how I feel.
Such a perspective on things, so real.
I want to be good, a mirror of society;
but we all know the mirror's cracked
and everybody's in the act...

I can't begin to explain myself;
rapists, murderers, thieves, with wealth.
Cheaters, hackers, monsters, with health.
What's the point of playing by the rules;
when no one else is bothered to fuel,
a legitimate society...

I can't take it any more.
I'm not a moral sign post of law.
Why should I lose out;
when I follow without doubt.
I won't do what I'm told any more,
honesty doesn't seem to work any more...

I...
am...
not...
a fool...
Sorry for the long time without a write, exams have been getting the best of me. Soon enough I'll be putting more work into this site. This poem isn't autobiographical.
Peter Watkins May 2014
A tall, lanky boy.
Face dotted red with acne.
Seen to be oddly;
focused on the future.
Perhaps he should enjoy the now,
instead of planning on how;
he's going to live.

Why does he write at his home,
he'd rather imagine and be alone.
He values education highly, seriously.
Sharing his thoughts quite carelessly.
Sociality isn't his concern,
he cares not for a friends yearn;
to see him once more.

It's simply weird and that's the only way to explain,
Peter Watkins in complete soul and name.
An explorer who searches the depths of his mind.
A navigator that guides the way with swedes of ink to find;
a sea of creativity laced with nothing more than happiness.
He searches for a place only real in his dreams comforting caress.
Peter's aim is pointless just as the way he depicts life; utterly pointless.
I've tried to give a 3rd person description of myself and merged elements of the 1st person alongside. I hope you like the sentiment, this is me in both how I am seen and how I see myself - Peter

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