Truth Is

Not like a Grown-up

Not like a bear

Not like a warrior, whose never scared

I crumble under the preassure

I fall into the fear

I can't hande pain

and I'm not all there

Not like a mother

Not like a flower

Not like a picture, a memory you would want to keep

I am not caring, I actually hate most

I am not pretty

and I don't boast

I am just a simple girl with nothing but doubts

Nothing but fear

and nothing that counts

Truth is, when I look in the mirror, all that I see, is the failure that I've come to be

looking back at me.

Author's Note

I am in a bit of a hurry, sorry the presentation of the poem is not to pretty.