It, who doesn’t hurt
It, who doesn’t care
But truthfully It is not who It tries to be
It is simple and It has feelings
Words hurt It and on the inside, It’s feelings scream
Begging It to let them be.
It sees all, even when all doesn’t see It
And It cares what all think of It.
It cries and weep when all is nowhere to be found,
And It pretends to be something It’s not
And It’s not proud
It wants to be It.
I want to be me.


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