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August 5, 2008
By jeanette Yanez, Wellington, CO

Many have seen,
This special "me",
Perfect and quiet,
The one with no more pains,
Or any tears.
Under it all,
I seem to have,
Dissapeared,
Practically vanished,
Into thin air.
That is until,
I reach the security,
of my covers,
with the lights turned off.
That then,
Is the time,
Where the mask,
Disappears.
I must have,
Hidden it all to well,
The tears, the pain,
Can you not see,
Through this game,
I play?

The author's comments:
This poem was written 5 months after my mom died. Its meant to show the world that even though we show our brave face deep down we still do really hurt and grieve. Its just easier for some to grieve alone, i know it is for me.

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