Life is a freak show
and we are all freaks.
Mother i listen and i'm
crying out for you to
be proud of me
but no
i am too short?
or too tall? or too insolent or too quiet for your
liking.
My lines are too unorderly
and i forget to use punctuation
but forgive me i try i make
mistakes- everyone does? or don't they
And i ask too many questions besides
too many questions cannot be
answered.
Ballerina With Fins
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/question-2/
