The Boss.


I am the boss of me.
and when I cry, I cry oceans
when I yell, I roar
when I dance, people step away because I flail and spin and jump. I get my space.
When I play music, The volume is louder than a storm but
never louder than me.

I am the boss of me.
I was not meant to be the small, petite girl I sometimes envy, no.
I was meant to tower over the harsh words of people.
Towering over the pain, the rejection and the senselessness
Taller than my problems.

But I go home and I shrink down, small and vulnerable
and I cry.
I cry away all the problems that flew and landed at my feet. Problems smaller than me grow in size,
when i'm alone.
They grow until i'm helpless in the warm hand of depression.

But I cry it away.
I give it what it wants so that it will subside enough to let me wake up another day,
tall once again.
Walking straight without a smile and a no tolerance attitude
in the hallways.
Until it's time to repeat. repeat. repeat.

I am the boss of me.
Until i'm alone.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem



This Poems Story

This poem is just something that came out of my mind, whatever I feel, like my other poems.