I wish I truly had all figured out:
Like what men want, besides that.
Sometimes I want to yell and shout,
But instead I quietly say, oh, crap.
I don’t always know what I want,
And I don’t have anything to prove.
I don’t mean to hurt when I’m blunt,
Still hope to be as gentle as a dove.
My middle name is not I’m sorry
And I surely have my bad days,
So don’t assume that I am boring.
But no matter how often I doubt,
I’ll still look to the stars and gaze,
And keep on trying to figure it out.
KBS, March 2009.
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