Unpowered and heavy,
Unsturdy and klutzy.
More laughable than understood,
Near-sighted and clumsy.
I feel of help,
With friendship to burn.
Did I fail you somehow,
To earn this spurn?
You're kind to my face,
Laugh behind my back.
At least be honest with me,
Please; my feelings won't feel attacked.
I'll be alright here with what you need to say.
You can say to my face what I need to hear,
Give me honesty,
and not false cheer.
I am better than I see;
I can be stronger than this.
Someday, I will succeed;
and the days of lack I'll never miss...
About the Creator
Kent Brindley
Smalltown guy from Southwest Michigan
Lifelong aspiring author here; complete with a few self-published works always looking for more.
https://www.instagram.com/kmoney_gv08/
Keep reading
More stories from Kent Brindley and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Failed Artist, A Disillusioned Poet, An Underpaid Game Show Host
I took my son and niece to Gori, a small town in Georgia where Joseph Stalin was born. They talked me into visiting the Stalin's Museum, the largest in the post-Soviet space. I had resisted going there because I just can't stand the monster and know enough about him, or so I thought.
By Lana V Lynx6 days ago in FYI
Comments (1)
I am who I am, free and spontaneous, sincere and bright, open and fearless, taking gains and losses as they come, clear-headed and sensible, not pandering, not blindly following, not belittling, I am who I am, not refuting, not explaining, and not afraid of being defined.