I hate breif descriptions. I'll let the poem speak for itself.
|Look at me when I'm not here,
So you can see the real me
And not the person I pretend to be.
But you wont be able to,
Even if you tried,
Because I have a mask on,
And you cant see inside.
Ask me about myself,
I promise I wont lie,
But I almost never tell the truth,
When my hearts floating high.
Does that mean I beak my promise,
It just means I'm a dreamer,
And not the pretended version of me.