Passion

As tears sting my eyes,
I try not to let you see them,
I try to fake being happy,
fake smiling,
and you just think I am being shy.
I try to hide my emotions,
not let anyone see the real me,
the depressed, lonely, person inside.

I hold myself back,
who am I?
I say I know I am depressed and sad,
but do I really know me?
Can I answer questions with ease still?
Do I know how to take care of myself?
It is hard being me sometimes,
but through surrender and heartache I prevail.

No one loves ME,
the true me,
the one who would let anyone hurt her,
would open up her heart
for friendship and love.
The one who wears her heart on her sleeve.
The one who secretly cries,
not only for herself, but for others to.
The one who cares more then she is willing to admit.





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