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Not good enough, not pretty enough and not smart enough to hold you close to me. Thoughts of insecurity leave me speechless because every time i speak i feel questioned for my choices from unfamiliar faces. I look down on myself as others step all over me. My face is strong, my body is weak. Last laughs gone with pride. Self-conscience and hopeless. I stand here waiting for someone to show me the right path. Like and exorcist, you used to take the negatice aspects of life away but now you cause them. So much feeling for one being but nothing in return. Helpless, I run to the one who caused it. The irony is painful but i endure it for i love your company.
poem
by
Briana Quinn
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