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Complex

Updated on April 24, 2017

Complex


So forth the matter comes.
Of what or whom I becomes.
Should be of whom not what.
The tiniest part of me doth shine.
Like the golden heart that is beating mine.
I haveth been hurt before.
I've also become stronger and liked some more.
It is not my shell nor how I appear that doth matter.
But whom I am when I am a friend and doth natter.
Nobody has the right to judge another,
Nor should we dare.
Or even dictate to us, which loin to wear.
Pure beauty doth come from within of ye.
Only thou can be truly thee.

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