By the window I sat,
Watching as people passes.
Locked in this room,
My solitude, none understood.
Housing my fears,
An aiding hand never given.
Exterior appearances should not be trusted,
As the smile I wore is not true.
Running away does not solve,
The ultimate enemy is me.
This is a poem I wrote years ago, probably form 5 or in the form 6s. I wrote this as an analysis while I was tackling my issues. Sound tad crude, but I don't wanna change it. Let it be. This was me.
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