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By: Sel Kute

Our heart beats, do not beat, to the drum of others beats
There was once, some kid, who lived somewhere
He was never good at the science of woman
His beat up kicks, dried lips and inflated physic never caught their attention
So he’d stay in dark corners of society writing poetry giving his soul an extension
He always carried a scruffy, imperfect demean through his day-to-day travels
Walking past make-up infested pretty chicks, that didn’t really tickle his fancy
His bright brown eyes could recognise, the eclectic free spirits that his heart can’t see
He needed love
But, love didn’t need him,
He had.. Lovers block
The inability to attain affection from those that secretly make your world rock
So,
He changed himself, listening to the criticism that he’s weird, and he’s different, he’s insignificant, people saying he’ll never be magnificent
He would spend hours trying to work on his roughed up appearance,
Just to psychologically make himself a lil more fearless
The funny thing is, we all know a guy like this
Or perhaps we are him
Finding generic clones of ourselves because we feel inadequate,
We leave our blueprints we’ve had from birth, conform to what society dictates and lose our worth
The truth is…
You are loved, because you are you,
We are loved, because we are us
our heart beats, does not beat, to somebody else’s beat
Artists we naturally are, free spirits inspired by the streets, for the streets
Weather it’s for love, friends
We have this fire that burns and keeps our personalities warm and makes us extend
While some get a high from synthetic drugs like coke or ecstasy
Some, get a high from their own ground breaking identities.
So…
My heart beat, does not beat, from his/her beat.
But, it just beats, dances, on it own.
more times than I could fit into this little bitty poem.

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