poetry This is me

So I wasn't made to prosper

then why do I bother,

Fear of failure I guess

Pressing the wound on my chest,

tell me what you need,

tell me what you want me to be.

A hero a villan I'll be your king ,

Prior to the throne,

If I must kill

I will slice the throat ,

Maybe it's me

The reason u always say no .

I have learned to love

Let go of my past ,

Hoping I was to be found,

I'm sorry to trust.