The Things I Hide


The things I hide

From curious eyes.

Oh, how they wish to see;

But I can not show you the real me.


I’m scarred,

And broken,

And long outspoken,

Bruised, and hurt.


You say you want to fix me.

But that cant be done.

Because you can fix a broken mirror,

But the cracks wont go away.


Pieced back together by your words,

But broken apart again by your actions.

You see the scars; you see the bruises.

You see the things that are dark and you run.


This is why,

I hide the things I hide.

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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