deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Odd One
Sometimes I forget that I am the odd one.
The one that brings the passion,
Of which so many others thirst.
I forget that my rosy demeanor,
Is what causes others to linger,
And gather together, instead of disburse.
I can make them excited,
Make them feel invited,
Make them laugh, and to spill their truth.
And although I am humbled,
I am terrified and troubled,
Because of what I can do.
This light within is an obligatory beacon,
That I wish I could hide as it sparkles & glistens:
Within it, is also my curse.
Just being around, I somehow,
Bring out the best in people I surround,
But, sadly, I know the truth:
I am also capable of bringing out the worst.
The one that brings the passion,
Of which so many others thirst.
I forget that my rosy demeanor,
Is what causes others to linger,
And gather together, instead of disburse.
I can make them excited,
Make them feel invited,
Make them laugh, and to spill their truth.
And although I am humbled,
I am terrified and troubled,
Because of what I can do.
This light within is an obligatory beacon,
That I wish I could hide as it sparkles & glistens:
Within it, is also my curse.
Just being around, I somehow,
Bring out the best in people I surround,
But, sadly, I know the truth:
I am also capable of bringing out the worst.
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