Course Of My Own

Fashioned from carbon and blood.
Upon this spot I am stood.
Emotions are always raw.
Extreme and might put me on the floor.
Yet it does not mean I want the pills.
Downing them will eliminate all thrills.
Leave a sensation of emptiness to grow.
Cannot withstand that void so…
I carry on without a hand to hold.
Don’t think that makes me bold.
I’m just an entity trying to live.
This eternity may just give.
Fold in upon itself.
Ruptured until I lack health.
Remold me into liquid clay.
Not something I ever wished to be.
Truth is I don’t get to choose.
At times I will always lose.
But if you think I’ll just surrender,
I will label you a pretender.
Cause I’m not done until I die.
And I’m as persist as rain that falls from the sky.

Human to my very core.
Like anyone I am not pure.
Its impossible to be as I am mortal.
I walk these days like some do portals.
Gateway to a new tomorrow.
Don’t expect me to be the one to follow.
I forge a path that is my own.
For that is how I have grown.
And to refuse my feelings would be torture.
Its why I insist on being my own author.
Founder of my every moment.
Unwilling to be a bowed proponent.
Yet that does not mean I always feel strong.
Many days everything can feel wrong.
But that all helps to form who I am.
Refuse to be herded like a lamb.
For my body, mind and experience are what’s me.
With them I will forever sail free.

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