When you look at me, do you really see me?
Or do you see what you think I am?
Do you see who others say I am?
Or do you think you see who, and what I am by merely glancing at me?

You've never bothered to get to know me.
Who I am.
What I am.

You just walk past me.
Maybe, you occasionaly look at me.
Just a glance.

Perhaps, even once you wondered what my name is.
But never who I am inside.
What my story was, and is.

But why would you care?
You spend your time with friends, in the open.
I spend my time alone, in a corner.
Yet for some absurd, unknown reason, I want you to know me.

I want you to know the inside me.
Not the me you think I am from glancing at me.
Not who ther people have said I am.

If you give me some of you time, and attention, I would show you.
I would show you the me that is screaming to be released.
The wonderful, glorious, beautiful, crazy, alive ME!
The me I keep inside.

Then I remember you don't care, and any signs of life I exhibeted, are now gone.
Forever.
Locked back inside.

And the truth is, you do care.
But now it is too late for both of us.
Because the real me is gone from this world.
Forever.