Poetry

I dont need a gun

to escape poverty

i dont need to be sucidal

to escape life

i dont need to be a prostitude

to perceive myself personable


I dont need to point fingers

In everything going astray in my life

i dont need to take drugs

to hide from reality

i dont need to be aggresive

to feed my bitterness


I dont need to be ignorant

to spoon feed my worryness

i dont need a mask

to cover my scars

i dont need to compromise myself

to fit in my peers