[x_section bg_color=”#494949″ style=”margin: 0px 0px 0px 0px; padding: 45px 0px 45px 0px; “][x_row inner_container=”true” marginless_columns=”false” bg_color=”” style=”margin: 0px auto 0px auto; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_column bg_color=”” type=”1/1″ style=”padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_text]Every day a thousand thoughts drift and rush through my head.
Will people ever know the real me? Is life really all it’s cracked up to be?
Does no one see what’s going on or do they just not care?
How come it seems I’m always the rock, but when I need, no one’s there?
Will anyone outside of this small town know just who I am?
Or at least will they know my dreams & goals, and that I am this world’s true “jem”*.
How come everyone says they’re not happy or they sometimes feel alone?
When all I see is all they have and have no need to moan.
Why does it always seem like someone’s messing with my head?
Either they’re saying just the way I feel or repeating what’s already been said.
It seems like those who try to inspire and try to make you feel good
are the one’s who feel they’ve had their hell, and would help you if they could.[/x_text][/x_column][/x_row][/x_section][x_section style=”margin: 0px 0px 0px 0px; padding: 45px 0px 45px 0px; “][x_row inner_container=”true” marginless_columns=”false” bg_color=”” style=”margin: 0px auto 0px auto; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_column bg_color=”” type=”1/1″ style=”padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_text]
- It’s so funny to see Jem the doll I used to have and the cartoon from my childhood circle back around and have a movie coming out in 2015.
- The cringe level on reading and sharing a poem I wrote YEARS ago is off the charts.
- I don’t have the same perspective, view of the world, or thoughts now, but it’s cool to see where my head and heart were back then.
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