The Burningsoul's World

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A lovely Poem

She’s an artist of sorts
With her brushes and paints
But she doesn’t use canvas
Its opinion she taints.

Around certain “friends”
She paints on a grin,
So she can be popular,
So she can fit in.

With other friends,
She’s loud and obscene
It’s the aim of the game,
To be rowdy and mean.

Close to her family,
She’s quiet and shy.
They hardly take notice ,
If she is nearby.

When she’s with the guys,
She’s a tease and a flirt.
She gives and she gives,
Ignoring the hurt.

The people nearby her,
They hope and they pray
That they could be popular,
Like her one day.

But when she’s alone
She breaks down and cries.
For there is no answer,
When she asks,”Who am I?”

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