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What a Foreign Concept

He says

That I'm ok,

Beautiful even,

What a foreign concept.

 

He says

That I'm ok,

Lovable even,

What a foreign concept.

 

He says

The bad stuff's ok:

The shame,

The guilt,

The anger,

The tears

Are all ok

And I'm ok

What a truly foreign concept.

 

He says

The good stuff's ok:

The pride,

The strength,

The confidence,

The self-love

Are all ok

And I'm ok

What a crazy foreign concept.

 

But crazier still - they aren't empty words

He doesn't just say them but shows them too.

 

What I think is ok.

What I say is ok.

What I do is ok.

What I am is ok.

 

What a messed up, fucked up, crazy ass foreign concept;

 

But a fine one.

◄ Too Late!

Truth Junky ►

Comments

<Deleted User> (9882)

Thu 11th Sep 2014 23:37

this poem does what a windy day does to my socks-

do I need to tell you? ;0) x

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Isobel

Wed 10th Sep 2014 20:20

And he sounds ok to me too ;)

Travis Brow

Wed 10th Sep 2014 11:47

This is interesting. Whoever he is, he sounds like a good'n.

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