The me that wants to fall in love, <br />Not spend another night in a, <br />Lustful bed. <br /> <br />The one that is deaf, <br />Because of her mothers hate cries. <br /> <br />The me that takes the word danger with a grain of salt, <br />And will try anything once. <br />If not killed might try it again. <br /> <br />The one that really thinks she is beautiful and sexy, <br />And enjoys getting dressed up, <br />Because then someone might notice her. <br /> <br />The me that is a broken and fallen angel, <br />Picking up all the pieces. <br />But needs your hand to learn how to start, <br />Putting them back together again. <br /> <br />The one that is a weak, loud, strong leader, <br />Who will put you before herself anytime, anywhere. <br />The person that you cant see from a far. <br />The someone that you cant find skin deep, <br />Even if you looked real hard. <br />This me is the one who is only shared within whispers, <br />And hidden within too many masks. <br /> <br />The masks are like a layered cake and I am at the bottom <br />Every word within the poems that I write <br />The masks crumble at the tip of my pen <br />And I expose to you <br />The true me<br /><br />Mrs. Cynosure<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-true-me-4/
