|Teen Poetry #1|
since 1999-06-29Posts 183
There was a time I held myself at fault.
For the actions of others and the pain they caused.
I used to bite my tounge
and obstain from objection,
Looking only to please.
I hid the pain and painted the smile.
"And all shall call you stolid."
No more will i aquiesce my identity.
I am unique.
No more Mr. Nice Guy.
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