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.