You are a beautiful infinity

You can write for hours on hours 

Of all the things you wish you could be 

But the truth of matter is simple 

People are not poetry.

And I know you wish you weren’t awkward 

That sweet words could roll right of your tongue,

But your time’s here is too short to worry 

How each single sentence is strung.

It’s okay to be rough round the edges 

To be bruised up and broken and scared 

But it’s not okay to let people tell you 

That’s it’s the reason to change who you are.

Your hairs doesn’t always sit this neatly,

The way a poem sits so neatly in line

And sometimes you might feel like a word 

That nobody has learned to define.

You may not be the star that lights up darkness

Or a bird that can teach us to soar

But it’s okay, because you are too complex 

To be cramped up in one metaphor .

Its okay not to know what you are doing 

Since your feeling don’t have to all rhyme 

Though a poem once complete is eternal,

But you have the freedom to change over time .

You are much more than can be ever written,

There is no title to say “this is me”.

You can’t be trapped in the lines of notebook 

Because people are not poetry.

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