Sometimes I just write a poem for me because I need the truth of the words:

Hidden from sight is the real me, a poem by Tracy Diane Miller

The words
Inside of my brain
They dance
Until set free by a Muse
Awaiting a chance
To find their way
Into a reader’s heart
Where perhaps they’ll stay
Alas my heart
Not always can be seen
Fractured
Broken
Is what I mean
I cry
Then I retreat
Sometimes even a verse
Succumbs to defeat
Hidden from sight is the real me
Tracy
Because most of you will never know
Of the depths of my daily struggle
Because I will never tell you so
Hidden from sight is the real me
I cry
But I will never let you see my tears
You just never will
Hidden from sight is the real me
Tracy
Writing poetry
Is the only me you will ever see

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