One question I avoid at all costs:
 Who am I?
  One question to rule them all:
 Who do they think I am?
  Are these one in the same?
 If not, I am to blame.
Misery sets in to weaken me,
 I don't always live in fantasy.
If who I am isn't what they expect,
 They'll know that I am not perfect.
What do I gain by them seeing behind my walls
 But an angry heart and a head that falls.
If I let no one in I'm safe from the hurt,
 Though I'll never know the reward, what I'm worth.
One day maybe my eyes, their eyes will see
 That who I am should really be me.