I am no godess, no angel, no modern work of art
I am no classical beauty, nothing much, but with lots of heart
I am not passion incarnate, I walk through shadow and through light
I am no one but myself, loved by many, hated by more
Who am I to you?
Am I what you were waiting for?
Help me for I am fading, clinging slowly to the past
I am not who I have said, I hide my pain behind a mask.
Did you know or just pretend?
For I am longing to be dead.
~edit~ Please note this poem has nothing to do with me....its just something that came to me and I jotted it down.
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