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They
They
shoot sideways glances that I catch, flesh out my plans before they hatch, suck all the wind out of my sails, defenseless, I become their prey. They think I'm aging, slightly fat, stylish, but I'm more than that. Predict the best you'll think of me, I'll plan for worst case anyway. They say that I'm my harshest judge, and that I hold a long, mean grudge. I battle most within my mind, but think you hate me anyway. They drive by looking straight ahead, don't lay awake at night in bed thinking I looked fat that day, but I'll think that anyway. © 2014 Nicholas Emeigh |
Read by the Author
COMING
SOON |
SoundCloud Reading
Part of the group "Record-A-Poem," and part of the Playlist "The Poetry of Nicholas Emeigh" which includes 40+ other poems.
COMING
SOON
SOON
Notes: This poem was written on Friday, April 4, 2014. It's about worrying about what others think of me constantly, and perceiving that they're judging me constantly. Really, that's not the case at all. People could care less, but I go on thinking that they do. Irrational, I know, but that's my brain!
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