I am imperfect.
I wonder what people think of me.
I hear others talking, laughing and question their loyalty.
I see how I want to become, but don’t know how to get there.
I want to be better.
I am still growing.
~

I pretend everything is all right.
I feel lonely and lost, now more then ever.
I touch the hearts of the few who care.
I worry others don’t like me.
I cry at the thought of being secretly hated.
I am broken.
~

I understand that everyone can feel like this.
I say I will forget it and not care as much, but don’t know how.
I dream of many, many things that may not happen.
I try not to let my imagination run wild with these dreams.
I hope to be the best I can be, at whatever I decide to do .
I am me.