Versions of Me
In that very moment
When it matters the most
It’s vital that I own it
Yet when my wisdom ghosts
It turns me to a liar
Though I never meant to be
I try and calm the fire
But all arson points to me
I’m flustered and confused
By those who sing my praises
They assure me, I’m not bruised
But my wounds appear in phases
There’s no telling when I’ll soar
Or when I’ll make you proud
I may just hit the floor
If the voices get too loud
It cannot be predicted
Which version will appear
Or which will be evicted
I represent whoever’s here
Copyright © Anna Hopper | Year Posted 2020
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