I am stuck
in a rutt
the identity
which no longer feels like me.
She doesn’t clean
is hardly ever seen
making a healthy choice,
so when she does they rejoice
clap and cheer
supposedly sincere.
She knows they care,
but it’s because of that she doesn’t dare
change her ways
in all of her days.
so here she sits
digging herself a deeper pit,
of low expectation
low appreciation
no admiration
just pure desperation,
to get out
so she can shout
‘I’m free
and there’s no one here to see!’
A place of her own,
a carefully curated home
where there is every chance
of a little spontaneous dance,
or kitchen karaoke
okidokiartichokie.
Anything goes
an endless prose
of dreams,
finally redeemed.
Tidy places
and new friendly faces
which have no clue
'cos they’re new
and there’s no one here to skew,
the way in which they view
the life she created
and now holds sacred.
The food she eats,
the place she choses to sleep.
She is kind
and likes to find
hidden spots to go
and let the ink flow.
And she can share
her work with care
because she doesn’t have to care
who is going to care.
If they think
she is starting to sink,
or not doing enough
behind the endless bluff
then go
you're not someone she has to know.
Nobody new
will turn her blue.
That doesn't mean the people she knew
turned her blue.
She put herself in that box,
but then forgot
how she got in,
as under her grin
she started to grow.
Beyond what she could show.
So go,
somewhere unknown.
Be new and sparkly,
find someone to kindly
sparkle with you,
and never allow the gloom
anywhere near
wherever you steer
together.
Find a new forever
that is not set in stone
and will allow us to grow.
Never get stuck
in a rutt,
the identity
is now forever free
