CONFESSION

This is a confession; I know you will read it with discrimination!
Here I am writing and hoping no one reads it with my name’s mention.
The logical part of me still objects to this publication.
However I have an imbecile child stuck in my brain station,
who is stubborn on sharing, what’s hidden, with this generation.
So here is my story of prolonged suffocation!
I am baring myself whether this is my soul or heart I wouldn’t know,
because I never paid them much attention.

I have been scared all my life, fearful of flight!
What if all these people around knew I was just another human being,
with some flaws and strengths to add to this mere formation?
A girl with the same problems, phobias and inhibitions!
I worry that if someone knew all that; wouldn’t they hurt me with deliberation?
This question arises because the world is full of abomination.
If people were to know how little words I know, and find out my imperfections?
If they could see I was weak and vulnerable at times to handle my own condition?
They would surely make a mockery of my situation!
Words would be thrown at me with detestation.
No one would care about my already existing apprehension.

But all this is just a fragment of my imagination,
because no one has ever known the reality of this creation!
People see what I show them, and they hear what I say,
what I feel is never expressed, at least not without some fabrication.
Yes this is an admission of my prevarication!!
Although the fact is, all of us live a life of deception.
These web of lies I say, is for self protection,
from all those waiting for my declination.
If they were to know my dejection,
they would kick me harder when I were descending those stairs of stratification.
And therefore I hide my troubles and tensions, like all organisations.

Yet again I wonder is life worth it if I lived safe while hiding my possessions,
after all, these emotions make me a unique creation!
Isn’t it a waste, knowing I never lived? I never loved,
and I never said the truth that would give me satisfaction?
Will a peaceful life give me a peaceful death?
Won’t I regret it when it’s the hour of this life’s conclusion!
When I will lay in my bed old and warm, with memories of a life that was never mine,
because all I ever showed were my special skills for dissimulation!
And at that time of culmination, I shall weep with all my capacity of exertion!
Regretting, as I shall know I only survived, but I never lived, in dread of this human population!
In the end it’s my declaration,for the search of my own liberation!

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