Rich In Strength

They kept on trying to burn her, not knowing that she was the flame.
They kept on trying to hurt her, not knowing that she was an addict to pain.

While you hate your inner demons, her's makes her sane.
What she deems worthy, you grimace at in disdain.

It is her smile while dying that gives her fame,
But it is that same facade that makes her insane.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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