The Weeping Poet

Me, I'm the weeping poet you see sitting in that swing Worrying about being perceived For I think I am what I am not "Sensitive girl" don't tell me twice I may be alone, but I've got voices in my head and they tell me what to believe May be weak, but my emotions run as deep as the blood in my warm veins I fear the only person who could know me best is myself So I speak through the music in my mind and the pencil on my notebook And I speak through the silence I give For I am what I choose to be