Conflict within myself
I know who I am. Confident, happy friendly, unique. But who am I? Filled with darkness, envy, hatred,
and ever so bleak. So, who am I you ask? A person I tell you, a person looking in. I see who I am,
who I want to be, who I wish to become from within. I play the innocent sheep to the beat of a drum,
but am I so innocent? Am I so helpless? My friend, this is where you are dumb. You see this
innocent sheep, this helpless small thing, is only such from a far; it is the costume I hunger, the
costume I hunger to mar. My mind, your eyes oh how they mislead! As I grow, as you approach I
become...I become an evil, black see. My true self I warn you as you step closer, is not so innocent,
not so helpess. In fact, it is quite mean, it is a dark, mysterious creature a kind of which you have
never seen. But oh it is known to me! I see it creeping up within, deep beneath my skin, tearing at
this masquerade that has become so thin. Again as you touch my mysterious, imperfect skin I warn
you can you handle who I really am? Will you be with me? If not, I suggest you flee. For this thing,
not so deep within my skin will come out the sheep never to be seen again. So who am I really? You
ask me once again, well I guess... I guess I am a dark, mysterious creature filled with sin.
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