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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1522688
Inner turmoil in every person's life.
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.


9/16/2005
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