Some days are better than others
Constant debate, always going on
I can. I can’t.
It’s me. It’s not me.
The poem is great, it isn’t
The day’s beautiful, the day’s gloomy
She likes me, she likes me not
I’m confident, you’re just pretending
I’m sure I can do anything, a voice tells me not
I know I’ll succeed, doubts attack my start
Constant debate, always going on.
I’m happy, grief sweeps in
Spanning the skies, sucked back into my room
I know freedom, death awaits
No fear is felt, the body’s scared
I am me, not the body
I’m me, not the grief sweeping in
The day is beautiful, the gloom isn’t mine
All I have to do is be me, be free
As me, I’m free.
Grief, fear, not me
Gloom, doom, not me
Happiness and light, that’s me
I’m free when I’m me.
Trapped when I’m not.