My Portrait
My Portrait


Irony is sowed upon me.
My stomach begs for food
Which my mind refuses to see.
I lock myself in a cage
Until I choke myself
So I open the doors and windows of rage
And complain about being stuck in a bookshelf
They say my eyes are cute
Why won’t they be so?
Midnight tears clear all the chute
I want to still be innocent
But not that timid girl
With that harmless scent
If I myself don’t understand myself
How can I expect anyone else to do so?
How can a solution itself
Expect within it an answer to grow.
I feel purposeless with a stack of tasks.