Lyra Watson | + Follow Poet |
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Blind Justice

From the time I knew
Went fast or flew,
What I don't know is 
Why can't I do this?
Never better than her
Never independent than her
Older than her
But she's better.

Or they say she is.
They say she's independent,
Loving, 
Kind,
All the things, I'm not.
All the things they say I'm not.
I want to spread my wings
And fly to a far off land,
A land where people are unbiased,
A land where I'll feel no pain,
A land where I'll be loved.

But reality strangles me.
With its suffocating hands that clasp my throat.
They say, I'm dumb,
They say she's smart,
And yet she doesn't understand my pain,
And yet she doesn't understand my sorrow

She rips off my hair
Burning in a flare 
I can't,
Can't fight
I have left no might

Enough is Enough
Time is surely rough
She's tough 
But I may or may not be independent
But surely my grades don't matter?
How my dream and desires shatter 
Homework running round my head
My heart is dead

No matter how hard I try to impress,
No matter hard I study,
Her grades will still be better,
Why?
Because she is younger, 
Because she is loved.

They say I wallow in a pool of self-pity,
But what do they know?
The people who have been blessed with every happiness on Earth,
Who poke fun of my life,
My hard-earned joys
My stife…
They shall never understand…..

But this is not what I want to tell you
What I do 
Is…………..
I may not be perfect as you may want me to be 
But you are my world to me
Whom do I have than you?
Who?
Tell me who?

I stand alone on the twisted road at twilight,
Before me lies loneliness,
Behind me lies sorrow.

And yet I know not which road to take.
Perhaps I should take neither.
Perhaps I ought to build a road of my own.
A road to that island, where everyone is loved,
A road to the perfect world.

People will look at me,
They'll point me out.
Because I'll build a new world,
A road of my own.
I won't break under the pressure,
I won't surrender to their beliefs,
I won't rely on hope.
I'll build a path of my own
Sweat and blood,


Where no one is perfect, but perfect is imperfect

Only I know how perfection is is truly imperfect


My fate has many tests 
There is no answer to them
I always fall for yes
I'm a slave to my plesations


But do you know?
Where I'll go?
When I'll have no one?


My heart is swelling
I'm telling 
Today, today I have the courage
To tell you, to ask you

What do I lack?
What if I'm not independent?
Am I not your daughter?


Listen to me 
Stop this Blind Justice

Copyright © Lyra Watson | Year Posted 2021

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