"Mona Lisa"
You call me.
A title for someone with a mask hiding all their pain; a sad title for a hypocrite like me.
You treat me like a child;
Trying to demoralize me behind your scholarly words.
You are disrespectful and jealous
And there are a million other words to describe you boiling inside my mind
But I've been told I'm not allowed to say them.
Foolish
You never understood me
Because you never cared to.
Says a lot about your personality.
I am strong in who I am and will never lose this optimistic me again.
You say I'm not optimistic because I burst spiteful words into a poem like this.
Well you once also said that I stereotyped pessimists all into one category.
Look at your own words now.
Clear as day; biting you in the butt.
You stereotype optimists like me.
Just because I am an optimist does not mean I am never going to let my anger out and stand up for myself and what I believe in
And what I believe is that you never gave a damn about me you two faced book worm.
I am no longer the Mona Lisa painting come to life for you to look down upon with your philosophical hypocritical words.
I need no approval for my thoughts from you.
I'll live my life; void of you
And you live yours.
I let my anger out; after all, you always wanted me to express my emotions.
How's that for "Mona Lisa"?