I am untitled,
I’m as blank as a crisp piece of paper.
I have yet to find my way,
to find my title.
But yet so many choose to define me.
Choose to define me before
I’ve even defined myself.
They’ve titled me and so has everybody else
but yet I only feel blank with no title or words.
I haven’t titled myself because they’ve done it for me,
they’ve ripped my pen right out of my hand.
They make me live up to the title that they’ve created,
and all it does is leave me in pit falling
deeper and deeper into there words.
I have no first impressions
for they have titled my expressions.
I am known only for my titles
and not for the words I speak.
These titles strangled me until my lungs gave out.
And now all I am is blank sheet of paper
for titles to be written on...