The Lost Lamb Poem by jess deaves

Observe me in my curious show
As the blank crowd fills below
I've been up here sinse long ago
Waiting for some one with hope to bestow

This stage of oblivion i find peace
A slight sense of realease
The crowd stare, im not a conversation piece
But the muttered words do not decrease

These shoes hurt my toes
Each day the pain it grows
Muttering grows loud as if to expose
Yet i still put on these shows

Trying hard to be some one i dont know
Keep trying to to conduct the puppet show
Plaster on a smile so they dont know
So used to this i think im a pro

Walking as a ghost behind who you think i am
Me the lost little lamb
The one who carried on this scam
I never even meant to start this sham

Dont analyze me theres no apparent link
Theories dont always interlink
But in my armour grows a chink
Dont look away it could be gone in a wink

Im not as strong as i appear
Underneath the surface is a lot of fear
A little girl who just wants to be held near
Trying not to disappear