Written when I was struggling with not wanting to write because I thought others may judge me and look at me differently.
It’s hard to tell the difference between the reality we face, and the things we wish were real
So many reasons to keep myself locked inside this cage, others try to enter but I find a way to scare them away
Be real with me, what is the problem here is it because I am living in fear of the unknown
Asking myself if I have become too familiar with the way things should be
Be real with me, do you want to learn who I am as a person then take the time to read my poems
Be real, it sounds so easy, but if it were, why am I still seeing so many fakes
People try to hide what they’re afraid of, but I’m still trying to identify the things that have brought me to this point in my life
Be real, it’s harder than it sounds, it can be scary because you don’t view yourself the way that God does
There is a method to my madness, but I feel like I’m all scattered
There is an answer to my questions but I am scared to find the answers
So many ways to make yourself feel better
So many books written on how to fix the broken pieces
In the end it’s up to you how much you let the world see
In the end I’d rather have the answers than be faced with all the questions