Misunderstood

This is a poem I’ve written years ago when I was bored and didn’t have anything to do. I was so bummed, and I stopped writing for a while, so I decided to whip up a little something. It’s not about anyone in particular, I don’t even know why it turned out this way, but nevertheless, I think it speaks for itself. Read it and tell me what you think it’s about.
Once again, she’s alone in her room
Pondering about what she is to the world.
She wears a mask, to hide her pain
So no one will see…
She whispers something, but nobody hears her
She begs for freedom, but the world is blind to her pleas
She shouts her love to the world,
But the world is deaf to her cries
Her shouts… barely a ripple…
In a sea of people, judging her and condemning her
What has she done wrong?
All she did was be true to herself
And love unconditionally…
But to the world, her love is worthless
To the world her love is wrong
So what’s the use of hoping?
No one will understand.
So she bows down and gracefully exits.
She has a secret. A beautiful secret.
But no one will ever know.
Copyright©2008angel









