True Me Poem by Peter Bishop

Don’t forget the true me
Who was hid by the million masks.
You dug deep into my soul
That revealed all the nasty foul.

I lied and tried to push you away
I succeeded but lead myself a stray.
I thought that if I acted cool
No one would use me as their tool.

My heart crashed like the bank
So I built myself a tank.
You were gentle and didn’t attack
Like those who had stabbed me in the back.

I was like the poor white rose
That no one could save because it was froze.
Everyone thought they lost the rose so pure
Until you came and found the cure.