Maybe I don�t,
Know my place.
They all tell me that.
I guess I want too much.
I want people to see past things.
Not what I have and don�t have.
Not my items or my face.
I want people to think about,
What we are all meant to do here.
What will happen in the future?
I don�t know�or care.
We have to make the best of every day.
It�s hard.  I�ll be the first to admit,
That sometimes I get swayed,
And start to think,
This is it.
My life is coming to a close.
She told me I had expectations
That were too high.
I suppose I do,
And I don�t know why.
He told me,
That he couldn�t read my mind.
It�s good that he can�t,
He�d be afraid of what he�d find.
I said on Thursday
That I didn�t care.
He said �Yes you do.�
And he was right.
I want to leave this for real.
I want to leave this alone.
She knows I feel bad
For trying not to hide it
When I feel alone and sad.
I really am alone.
I really know how things are,
But no one else can see,
No one else even tries to.
I really want to be a part of everything.
Or just apart from everything.
I�m sick of being in the middle.
In the middle of arguments.
In the middle of a game.
In the middle of doing something,
And tthat something is always,
So useless.
In the middle of paying for things,
That I lost�.
In the middle of paying for ideas that I had.
I want to be heard.
Just one time.
I want someone to read it all,
And know what it means.
That�s what they all tell me
Is too much to ask.
Too much to expect,
Yet I do.
For some reason I still hold on,
To the belief,
That somewhere out there,
There are more people like me.
I suppose I�ve found one,
But he can�t seem to find me.
I�m so tired of wondering,
When I�ll be accepted,
When I�ll be kept alive:
I want to be kept alive by something more
Than my need to prove
That I�ll do everything
That I ever wanted to do.
And maybe even do it well.
I�ll show you all some day,
That I�m really what I planned.
Funny thing is,
I don�t remember planning.
But that�s no surprise,
Lately the only thing I remember,
Are isolated events,
Animal bread,
Crying.
Hamsters and kittens,
I once had.
I�ll never forget,
Teeny tiny kitty cat.
I remember trying to write a book,
When I was nine.
And trying to write a screenplay
At sixteen.
Now I just write my mind,
It works out a lot better.
I remember My Little Ponies.
And I recall dancing for a long time,
Last night, all alone, just being free,
Outside on the lower part of the sky.
The clouds were blue and they filled,
Up a space too big to seem true,
Clouds can float around but,
They have no self control,
And no communication between each other.
I guess I burned a lot of bridges,
Intentionally, because I don�t
Want to fall back on anything,
Unless it�s me.
I give up this earth�s dust and
This land�s flower,
To keep a piece of mind,
Maybe someday that freedom
Will bring peace of mind.
8/20/00
Note:  This is all one poem.
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