If this is how I feel,
why hurt my feelings?
I’m only seeing what my eyes allow,
why blur my vision?
I’m only speaking the words I know,
so why twist my words around?
If what I taste is sweet,
why make it bitter?
If I can smell the roses,
why should I smell the garbage?
If I’m just being me,
why don’t you just let me be?
Arnittress Dowdy 