This is me,
the realest one,
my scar of sanity,
the masquerade,
sorrow at it's sweetest,
truth that is a lie,
my pretending,
and my hiding
undeserving of your praise,
and
far from understanding.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice..but if you had taken more time to write this poem...then i feel it would have been better...