|People say that I am strong, and
Never let life's problems get to me,
That I so easily ignore other's jeers
And simply let words be.
They say that my fight is already won;
I stand strong on who I am.
"Just so optimistic," they tell me again
"And regardless, you do what you can."
Yet they don't know that my appearance
Is just a well put act;
That every jeering word I hear
Still hits me like set fact.
They don't know that I battle every day;
Daily question my actions, my life.
Optimism is a great put on in the end
And I do what I can... to avoid strife.
What they don't see is after every fight,
I run to comfort and I hide.
No one can see my hidden fears,
Or my desire to escape in flight.
Only my Lord knows every thought,
Every fear, sorrow and fight.
He is the only one I have sought
And heals me in His perfect light.
None but He can understand me;
None but He can endure such complaints.
How long must I wait? Whom else can I trust?
Who will hear my cries, though they be faint?
Can any read between the lines;
See who I really am?
Do any care? And is it safe?
These questions and fears run again and again.
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