I am just a girl.
Cascaded in mystery.
One might ask, who is she?
I myself question that too.
Who am I?
Not seen but invisible.
Not heard but understood.
Not acknowledging but ignored.
Me, but a girl.
Not yet who I want to be.
Me, just a riddle waiting to be solved.
Me.
Only me.
Just a girl.
YOU ARE READING
to someone.
Poetrypeoms written for people still figuring out who they are. if you're here, than I guess that would be you.
