One question I avoid at all costs:
Who am I?
One question to rule them all:
Who do they think I am?
Are these one in the same?
If not, I am to blame.
Misery sets in to weaken me,
I don't always live in fantasy.
If who I am isn't what they expect,
They'll know that I am not perfect.
What do I gain by them seeing behind my walls
But an angry heart and a head that falls.
If I let no one in I'm safe from the hurt,
Though I'll never know the reward, what I'm worth.
One day maybe my eyes, their eyes will see
That who I am should really be me.