by Giana Sparacia
I’m not one singular person, I’m a mix My mind usually likes to play tricks This makes it hard for me to fit in And I never know where to begin I think I’m nice, but maybe I’m too much I play the role of the walking crutch In a dictionary, I have no definition Which is why I usually use repetition A dice always missing, the queen always captured Was there an error when it was manufactured? Time is ticking, tempted to take it back, committing theft Nowhere left to turn, no more turns left Hopefully one day, someone will see me As someone they need, or someone they strive to be 'Cause maybe then will I feel I have a purpose I can’t imagine anything worse than this The answer is that I need to choose In a game where I will always lose
Giana Sparacia is a sophomore nursing major who has always had a passion for writing. In addition to writing, her interests include photography and dance. She is a lover of coffee, beaches, and her crazy dog, Gus. She aspires to become a pediatric nurse in the future, while continuing to incorporate her personal ambitions.