In the unlikely event of you reading these words
I want you to understand I’m not talking about myself
I am talking to and about you
I bet you miss yourself
Immersed in your little world
And trying to escape your own thoughts
For no other reason than sheer boredom of your past life
And it cannot be something else than boredom
Otherwise; why leaving being your real self an unfinished business?
That fake happiness dangling on your chin does not hide the fact
That once again, you’re changing to be somebody you are not
And is not that I do not understand you
I do speak crazy fluidly
I have had the idea of just running away and change my name
Like Frost I want the less traveled road once in a while
Dress differently, speak differently… smell differently
But to succumb to this temptation
To fall for this illusion
Is to stop growing up and shrink down
It is not the way of becoming a man tested and true
And you may call me bitter, my friend,
But honesty sometimes is as sweet as raw lemons
Yet as needed as blankets in the night
As cold as a winter shower
But as useful as God’s voice
And in honor of truth
I will admit, I miss your old self… too
Me encanta! It's a raw honesty in which the seal falls on those who claim it! Cunning indeed
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