Get Over It Poem by Frederick Francis

There’s not even a landscape,
There’s not even that.
If you fall off now,
There is nothing to hit and go splat.

Don’t talk about family,
They will go first.
In a dance most call life
As if it’s rehearsed.

Friends go soon after.
They’re usually next.
Their abilities have limits
So don’t be perplexed.

You could try something drastic,
Like advice from a shrink.
But their scope is not broad
And only deeper you’ll sink.

You could try looking in books.
But they won’t have the answer.
The problem grows inside you,
It grows like a cancer.

It’s that itch that burrows
On the back of your neck.
The voice keeping you awake
Making you a wreck.

That which defines you and
Makes you yourself.
Though finding it can be
Detrimental to ones health.

It’s your individuality struggling
To break the skin of a copy.
Push past the bondage of perfection
And show you’re interesting and naughty.

Any person who’s no help,
Cast them aside.
If they say it’s for your own good,
Forget them they lied.

To find who you are
You must go to a place,
The emptiness is vast,
Your world you must erase.

There will be nothing to lean on
And no use for despair.
Cry all you want.
There is no one to care.

It’s not alone like in a fog.
When there’s certainly something in the distance.
Search all you want.
It will be a waste of persistence.

When you’re stubbornness gives way
And you realize your defeat.
It’s maybe now you are ready
To stand on your own two feet.

Individuality. Personality.
They’re easy to say.
But a person with true backbone
Is an uncommon display.

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