Literature
'My Name.'
It seems we're born with it,
And we can't really have an opinion on what it may be,
But once it's given,
It's what makes me, "me".
We learn it by heart,
And write it all fancy,
But in the end,
We always find a way to make it bend.
By shortening it,
And gluing labels to try and cover the evidence,
We try to make what's permanent,
Past tense.
But truthfully,
It's something that we adore,
And opens our minds
To the beauty galore.
It was meant to be,
And will always be true;
The label on our image,
Like stickers to glue.
To hear it,
To see it,
It's what makes our hearts feel free.
So please, please;
When loneliness seeks m