I know what they call me,
When I walk out of the room.
I know what they think of me,
When I walk by.
I know,
And it hurts more that wounds ever will.
But it's not true.
I have feelings,
Though heavily gaurded.
I have a heart,
Locked up deep inside.
I may not show it,
But I hurt just like you.
I'm not what you think I am,
I'm anything but.
I will show you,
Who I really am.
Anything but,
An ice-queen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
cold fire... burn deepest.....