the call to perfection,
is a call,
which my hand would answer,
but, my heart won't,
when every part of my heart and soul,
crying to fly,
i was brought back to earth,
by the rope that bounds me,
to my duty of perfection,
it felt so hard,
when you try to be,
what they want you to be,
if they could only try,
try to see that i'm just,
nothing more or nothing less,
than just a human being,
but, what can i do?
than just to smile and go along,
wishing that my heart,
could just do the same....
2007-08-10
12:13:06
·
12 answers
·
asked by
m@r
2
in
Poetry