Another Face

Having a sudden surge to be visible, to be known.
Being able to open my mouth and hear its meanings.
To be wanted, to be accepted.
Being a single red rose waiting to blossom, waiting to be acknowledge and accepted.
To live in such a world were there is a limit to creativity.
Should we live on ,if there is no place for our passions and creations.
What am I really trying to say, who knows.
Writing words in my diary, what for?
Are these words going to be pasted on for centuries or be thrown away like the rest.
My age automatically tells the other individual my state of mind.
Believing I have an old soul, being born in the wrong time.
Couldn't I be known, to spread my words of wisdom.
To the rest of the world, I am just another face.





Poetry by MsFuture
Read 529 times
Written on 2006-08-12 at 06:16

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