It's part of inspire.
Dedicated to Champagne Supernova, to Oasis and to a certain Menon.


My Special

How many special people change?
Once special, always special?

What if a special breaks?
What if a special hurts?

He'll still be special?
The truth is
When I made you special,
I made sure
You couldn't unspecial yourself.

I carved you too deep.
The wound won't heal.
I bleed.
I plead.
I strike.
I give.

But you, you angered.
You swore.
You cursed.
You hid.

You refused to believe
You are special
No one can change that.
Not death
Not God.
Not bricks.
Not books.
Not dreams or themes
Or songs or smiles.
Nothing.

Special people never change.
None of them do.
That's the tragedy.

It's cool as long as they know.
But if you hide, they hide.
If you stumble, they stumble.
If you doubt, they doubt.
Coz you are a special too.

Am I special to my special?
You say I am.
I know I'm not.









Poetry by Parnika
Read 1040 times
Written on 2007-01-15 at 07:41

Tags Special  Change  Inspire 

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