Eye of the Storm
Do not mention transforming,
you’re too busy conforming;
Probably shouldn’t speak to me,
when you can’t really talk to me.
Coward, you’re weak;
I’m not trading my hurricane spirit
to swim for a minute in your ridiculous sea;
Like a corporate box
you’re covered with it, wreaking;
You claim to be a positive change?
You’re a gun at a firing range
in a world of peace;
Now? I’m pointing it at you;
Don’t you dare tell me to conform
Nice girls finish last.
I’m done. Now, my eyes are the storm.
Copyright © Melani Udaeta | Year Posted 2019
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