Who I pretend
All is black,
All is cold,
Within this frail life,
Feeling the cold at my door,
Wanting so much to be seen,
Wanting so much to be heard,
Longing for a place,
Somewhere I am me,
And not who I pretend,
Not knowing inside,
Never seeing past the outside,
For the man that is buried deep,
Until one day,
When he will come to be....
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