Short Poem About Myself Novels & Stories

My favorite poet is Emily Dickson. If at all I died, it is because I wanted to, I have always wanted to, because I feel unworthy, I dint love myself at all. I hope this doesn’t break your heart or diminish your spirit. Anyway, my part on earth is over, I am sorry that it is. Maybe reincarnations are real or perhaps they aren’t. I am sorry papa, sorry that I didn’t live up to your expectations. I am sorry that I wasn’t worth it, I wasn’t a perfect child at home and at school. I have always been flawed, and my flaws are too big, they can’t be covered or repaired. Tell the bullies that I give up and they win.

I am not broken". Emma and I said at the same time. "AhaHhaaahaaa" that witch laughed and then said," If both of you aren't broken than who is the one which is broken. Is it me? Denying the reality doesn't change it but it'll make you feel better". Emma and I looked at each other and then again to that witch. She continued," One is trying to fight with none other than himself and the other is trying to fight her destiny. Oh, it's so interesting. But remember that the fight with your own self is the harder one. Tell me. Why are you both here?"

Her tears at that time falling for me felt like a huge universe gifted my way which I was ever ready as I could be to grasp tight. I was a fucking moron to hurt her time by time. I wanted her with me. Her heartbeats to synchronize with mine. She was it for me and I wanted myself to be it for her. But not anymore. \'''If I were a poet I would write sonnets Dedicating to your beauty with utmost honest! If I were a priest! I would preach your love with utmost sweet! But Alas! I'm none of the above In your world, I am just a wild beast!'''/

I lay down on the ground and rested my head on my bag. "All by myself, alone on a cliff. Dunno if I should turn back now or just jump ... and be free... hoping for the best." I sang. My horrible voice probably scared away some bugs but at least the lyrics were good. I've probably made hundreds of miniature songs. If I was in a movie right now what should this scene be about? Hmmm... yes! A song. I jumped up and opened my arms wide.

As soon as the chorus hit, the crowds sang along with me. This is who I am This is who I am You cannot change me This is who I wanna be What an irony, I thought. This is not what I want—this is not me. But I have to keep going. This is who I am This is who I am I will always stay true to myself And be me

“Although you appear nothing more than a spec in the night. Even then, you pierce the dark with light. To them it didn’t matter, but to me it shone so bright. Your gravity brought in the ocean’s tide. “Some say you’re a myth, some say you’re made of cheese. Caught in your embrace, weakness buckled my knees. Your presence may never light up a room, but even then You light my darkest nights like the brightest moon.” "How could an inconsequential existence such as mine ever cross a mind as developed as yours. So I am just going to hide in the shadows, As your light illuminate me forever more..."

All he muttered about was to find Leah and bring her back. The woman waited on the shore every single day, saying that she was waiting for someone who would never return. Under my parents' care, I recovered slowly, and I began to lead a new life that belonged to me. After experiencing two lives, I knew more about how to love and cherish my family, and to love myself properly. I believed that after saying goodbye to the wrong person in time, I would be sure to embrace the right person one day.

Ji Soon said, “Please stop these cheesy words. My heart is fluttering. Let’s sleep.” At Bo Ra’s place, Bo Ra is keep staring at Hyun Joo’s face. Hyun Joo said, “Just stop staring at me like that… I can’t hold myself.” Bo Ra doesn’t hear his words. Bo Ra said, “There was a time I think myself as unlucky. But now I realized everything. I am very lucky.” Hyun Joo asked, “What made you feels like that?” Bo Ra said, “I have you…” Hyun Joo didn’t speak back to her. He is totally amused. He is just glaring at her.

It's that same silent persona that refuses to tell him about my poems, that part that said i liked cooking when i can't boil an egg right. It's that same version of me that watches from the sidelines, the part that has said i-told-you-so so many times, it's now cliche. That quiet profile that is painfully aware of the fact that anyone that comes too close to me dies. We were sparks of light, dancing, twirling, brightly, in perfect symphonic twists of alchemy. We were something in between flames of fire and the ashes of a smoke. Something in between infatuation and obsession, in between Juliet's romeo and Luscious' cookie.

Of growing up. Another poem-briefing came up when I found myself working from home for a period. How tiring. I'm so bored. What a sea breeze. Lucky I had a red wine. Well, the character in my poem, one of my most present alter egos, was not so lucky. She had children. Alexa, is that you?