On leaving

[Bunx]

EDIT 1
Here I leave running out of the room.
Roaming, thinking where am I heading too?
The land of riches, with money everywhere?
Or to the land of trials where art reflects a constant snare.

Snared by conflict and stress on my mind,
hoping and waiting my art will appeal kindly.
Wishing for my fingers to write and then become
a walking world where silliness has won.

Hop scotching up and down I have reached the near top,
but I find my feet on the floor. Mounded,
by the condition that I wield. Fake friends
flopping here and there some invisible, some there.

It is o.k. a thought to myself, everyone is part
of the human condition people dealing
with each others tart sense of self.
So why do I loath me, I got to see what you did not.

A beautiful fake girl the one I forgot.
I knew her when she was fourteen and so was I.
She grew her false wings when she learned how to fly.
Across the ocean figuratively trying to be mine.

So here I am, leaving though the door.
Another girl lost maybe I'll grow wings to soar,
to meet the fake one who flew away.
Who knew I would be a bird today.

[Bunx]

foggle- thanks again for the comments, i will pick though this one again.