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Sometimes it feels like I don’t even know
Who I am or where I want to go.
I sit and I wonder who I should be,
And if I have that potential in me.
How do I know who’s at my side?
Who can I trust? Who to confide?
Somehow it seems the burden is mine,
And can I exalt it in such perfect time?
Your eyes demean me; I know I am not,
I’m not the perfect girl you have thought.
Maybe you’ll face it, but when will I?
I want to give up; it’s too hard to try.
Raised up to be more than I am,
Torn between I can’t and I can.
Whose is the motive that I aim to please?
When will I be able to simply be me?