My life is full of chaos and mess I can't fix but I wish I could, and leaves me to ask:
Why me? How am I any different from anybody else except my appearance,besides that I have
feeling just like you and they can get hurt just like your can. I can't express myself the
way I want it because all my word are jumbled up in my head and going faster ythan my
hands can type everything I mean to say; if I forget to say something then this poem is in
vain and I have defeated the purpose for writing at all.
Copyright © Sharice Lewis | Year Posted 2005
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