I’m not

I’m not who you expect me to be

I’m so far from perfect

I’m twisted and unpredictable

I’m not who you expected

I’m not the sweet little girl I once was

You seem to think I haven’t changed

You think I still want to do the right thing

I’m not the sweet little girl

No one ever tells me I’m special anymore

Yet you still imagine it to be true

I’m just ordinary and proud of it

No one says I’m special

I’m not who you expect me to be

I’m not a sweet little girl

I’m not special

I’m just me

11月11日

An Autumn of Possibility

Sadly they fall like tears

Sadly they fall to the ground

The golden leaves shining brilliantly

In the winter sun

They cling to the tree

They cling for a second

But they all fall down

Slowly, twirling

The wind teases them

The wind plucks lightly

Until they have to give in

And let go

They float downwards

They float into the unknown

Some hit the ground gently

Others fly for longer

Down in a kaleidoscope of brown, red and yellow

Down in a swirling frenzy

The autumn colours filling the air

With possibility