She was a woman with curiosity,

But she was only known as "she";

In this poem you will see,

A story of her witnessed by me.

She sits by the fire.

As she looks and admires;

At the figures she desired,

That she thought was required.

She wanted to be perfect,

A version all will envy;

She wanted all the respect,

And so she tried to leave me.

I did all I could to stop her,

Told her it sounded foolish;

But she told me not to bother.

So from her life I was banished.

It was years of her ignoring me,

I hate how she wasn't true.

She felt as if she was free,

She felt like someone new.

But deciding to be someone new, 

Doesn't mean you should stop being true;

Your identity has to be valued,

Not by them but by you.

As luck would have it,

She found someone who accepted her;

In my tiny prison I found an exit,

Finally, she was in full character.

She wants to be real,

A version where she doesn't have to hide;

She wants to be sincere,

So we started over - and once again tried.