Pretense

I reveal to the world, a side of me
A side known to be sweet, polite and funny
While I hide to the world, another side of me
The side engaged always in ceaseless fights with shadows

Why, a part of me does be filled with past blows
Blows that did scar my soul, my heart, my whole life
Blows that do still follow me like eternal shadows
Blows that still do remind me of how painful were the pricks of cruelty's knife

Shadows they are, made of mine own
Shadows that are still to others' opinions, so prone
Why, even if I do wish to, I shall not be able to let them go
For, shadows they are, that do remind me of how my youth was ruled by my own ego

At times, of these I do sit and write
At times, I do believe I deserved them right
At other times, I wish that my life was not made of these
Why, I do believe that they are my disgrace, for taking life to be made of too much ease

Why, should I reveal to the world my shadows
The world shall itself turn all morose
Pray, better it be that I do forget about them and hide them well
Shadows are after all, things of darkness, things that shall eventually go to hell!