Okay this is a poem by me...(Duh) and it is about how I feel about my life, and how I am pressured to be this person that I am not....I think it is pretty good, but I am not sure. I mean I need some others opinions (beside friends). If you enjoy it write to me, so that I may send more in because I have a ton of poetry....

Cover- Up

I feel expected,
To meet such high standards,
In which I feel unimaginable,
Standards so high,
Standards that are mine.

I am expected to do so much,
So much unexpected for almost all others, but for I, it is priority,
For I, it is fundamental to my self.

I feel that I can never be me,
I must be this expectation,
This perfect goal setter,
That is I.
That is me.

I try to meet all these decrees,
I try so strongly,
That if the decree is not met I am frowned at,
And not who I am expected to be.

The one with the perfect judgment,
The dream accomplisher.
The one known for my brilliancy,
And yet still judged for my supposed perfection,
The amount of perfection that I feel that I am not.

I am the one you stare down at,
And crave for life in,
In which looks so simple,
For it is masked in disguise of perfection,
So deceiving, you do not know.

But do you know the life I live,
Not as easy as it appears.
I make it simple,
Or at least I attempt,
But it is not as simple as I resemble.

Nothing is given to me,
My perfection is a career in its self.
You do not think that I work for this?
Well may I wish that this were true,
For Perfection is not guaranteed without chore.


But that is not I.
Have you considered my Identity other then what you see,
That is just a part of me,
A part of the one in which I am.

I am the one in the front of the class,
The one who knows the answers,
The one who will be pre-eminent,
Or at least that is what you say.
The one judged always for brains and nothing more.

I am never looked at twice in this life,
Never considered as one of you,
I am always foreshadowed in the populace,
As another one of ‘them;

I manage quite finely with all of you,
But I am never part of you,
Though this may be true,
And by all means you know it is true.
I would like to be considered as just one of you.

I am a person,
As are you,
I am a person,
With emotion,
I am not just a person that you take no time to greet.

Do I not have likes,
Or dislikes?
Do I not listen to my music?
Do I not do the things you do?

I am the one.
You know who I am.


I am precisely that.

But have you ever considered me,
For one other than my cover,
That is what I plead of you,
To look at me,
For more than my cover.
Just take another glace,
And look at me.

You all are very talented and this is great.


Bump for the beauty.

Calm Before the Storm
I watch innocent children
stare at the heavens above
as the fluffy white clouds
dance with folly love,
for these unknowing beings
know not the evil at bay,
for every white cloud
is dying to be gray;
a cloud is a storm waiting to happen.

Weighing Cathedral Tunes
I have once again fallen
to my childish dreams,
letting them rip in halves
at the well duct-taped seams.
Such a weariful duty to wait
for what shan't come to be;
now I know and feel pain
any lost Christian will see,
but they permanetly possess
in their being what I do not.
Blind faith will come easy;
temptation is well fought,
but I must always see
to know and believe what "bes;"
I cannot close my heart
and pray on bloody knees.
I cannot hope there is
a reflection in murky lakes
for a girl is only as good
as the love and care she fakes.