Anguish

From being

a book

once sealed shut,

now open

and exposed.

 

With problems I fought

to be forgot,

on pages

that can't be closed. 

 

It will be okay—

they said to me

but then I must reply—

 

The pain you don't know,

and I cannot show,

is the memoir of my disguise. 

 

 

 

W

This poem is about: 
Me

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