Short Poem About Myself Novels & Stories

"We shall one day stand on the stage of highest honor and shine as brightly as the sun." I muttered softly, "I did it, Shawn. If there's a next life, I hope you'll achieve the same." A gentle breeze caressed my ears. I finally let go of my past in pursuit of a brand new future.

"Admit it. Nerd, you're afraid of me, that because of me you don't want to be in this competition! " I know, I'm weak. I know, I am a loner, and I know that no one wants to be like me, but I'm myself in the end. weather, it is not fully me, but I'm myself .it doesn't matter what I pretend to be...I" ll always remain myself or what I want to be. "No, I'm not afraid about you, about anything, about this competition, or anything else," I said while weeping. Damn it. At least stop crying.

She asked I suddenly remembered the small poem in the book I have shared with Lea "Think of me, our time might come to an end. In a blink, you might be blind to see me." "I am on the brink of the cliff, can you catch me? I am shrinking, will you see me?" "In a wink, there's only one eye. In a heart, there's only one side" I haven't given attention to it but, it did affect me. Little did I know, it was the end

Anyway I bet it's because you are not woman enough to cli___. "Shh." I interrupted him as I heard a familiar song playing.. "Wha___ "Shh." I interrupted him again as I made out the song playing before I joined in, singing along.

“That the strongest thing you can ever be… is simply yourself. Unapologetically. Completely. Without cutting away parts to please anyone. Without hiding parts to fit inside rules. Without changing yourself to be safe. Because when you are truly yourself… you do not need to fight anyone. You just… exist. And that existence alone… is already enough to undo every lie that was ever told.” Later that night, when everyone else slept, I walked out to the very edge of the ridge, where the ground fell away steeply and the world stretched out dark and wide below. Above me the stars burned bright and clear, exactly as they had always done, exactly as they would always do — fixed and moving, steady and

All my life, I had begged the heavens, begged for a name, begged for a home. Only now did I understand. A true home is the self. From this day on, whatever struggles may come my way, I stand firmly on my own two feet.

I say, to no one, to everyone, to a version of myself four thousand years gone. I keep walking. ~~~

Yet it was still as if she could see me and hear me clearly. And even at this moment, when she stares at me, perhaps wondering who I am and why I am in the hall, I wish she could just study my lips and read all my words in her name; maybe that would help the situation, and I can definitely have her to myself, but she did not, yet I still wrote another poem in her name, and I recited it over and over. Maybe my mom has always been right to call me a loverboy. I love to be able to make sure my woman feels comfortable with me, but I am so unlucky to have met vultures in the past.

The voice says. "Yeah... wait, you are me. What the fuck is happening? I just spent the last 10 minutes talking to you.. no me. Myself. Argh, kill me please." "Well you've gotten used to it. Stick to the demon you know, yeah?" "I guess." I feel overwhelmed. All these problems are just piling up, I need to write. I get out my book to resume my poem. "I need just one word... just one." "Do you have any ideas?" I ask myself.

Not me at all. No matter how tired I feel, I am still finding a way through. Believing in self is disbelieving in what others have left for you. Be it cold death or warmer Earth. You need to be yourself, not the other who might even excel. I am reporting the joys of your mind, a genuine trick. Live life to the height of your thought, not tallness. You can achieve a goal just by one man. That's you, none else.