Do you see ?
As you pick away the skin from my trembling bones, what do you see?
Do you see that innocent little girl that i once was?
Or do you see the popular girl?
The weird kid?
Or the sporty guys?
Do you see now, that we are not all the same?
Oh but if you keep picking away the skin on my trembling bones, what do you see?
Do you see now?
That maybe we are all the same.
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This is a poem a wrote about how everyone is the same. we may look different or sound different and walk different but when you look underneath. we are all the same.