The Door Was Locked, And So Was She

          mirror mirror, what do you see?

          some hidden power buried deep?

           or are the scars all that you see?

         like the others who don't see me.

            I am not Scars but I'm not free

        I am not dying,though I do bleed 

          Yes, I know that there is no key

      The door is locked, and so was she

       longing for castles and for the seas

          stuck, wishing that she could flea 

      no one bothers to ask what she needs

              understands that she can't leave.

                    locked herself out of reality 

            as to deal with the pain of faking 

This poem is about: 
Our world


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