Please send more then "Nice!" or "That sucks!"
I look forward,
to the blurred, misty road
I look backwards,
to the path crowded
with people
and things.
All those things
are pushing me to advance
all those people
are telling me what I should do
but I don't want to listen,
I want to choose on my own.
I want to choose what I wear
without people telling me I should be more
pretty or more fashionable or more
like them.
I want to choose what I do
without people telling me I should be more
sensible or more reasonable or more
like them.
I want to be
myself
but the expectation,
it's pushing me forward,
every time I make a change
I'm moving so fast
It's left behind
another memory
snagged on a bramble
caught in time.
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