Misery loves company,
Is what they say.
Then, I guess I am ready
For a party.

Fears and worries
Cloud my mind.
Terror runs
Down my spine.

Maybe I should stop
Being myself.
Maybe I should try
To be someone else.

Maybe I should wear a mask.
Maybe I should lie.
Maybe I should try
To be a better person.

But I do try,
And I fail.
I always find myself
Right back where I started.

Same old me,
With all my quirks and flaws,
All my hang-ups and obsessions.
I can only be who I am.

God made me this way,
So he must have had
Something special,
Something different,

Something twisted, in mind.
Can God be twisted?
Some think so.

Either way, I think
He can use me,
No matter how twisted
I am.


Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger, Advocate

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