I write because I feel the sensation to fight. My life is that I'm lost, the cost is high and I constantly ask why and why? Wanting to cry to live but I feel rather like my soul is about to die. The outcast role is all I know , passed at every turn I use to burn with envy. Though it never helped, I felt like I was constantly being played to fit a harmonization not my own. Like a instrument people used me to fit there sound. They compromised me not knowing that my harmony was me silent and quiet. Harmonization of their minds was simply the under estimation of the ability that lies within me. If they could only see. deaf ears to my pleas. I'm all on my own. And the flesh and bone turns them away from me. But I am who I want to be me and that is fine and its owned by me its all mine.

Penned by, Alexander Great

Florida

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