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WHO


 

Am I this fragile child that cries, feeling unloved,

and fear of being alone,

 

Or this mature woman, safe and secure hiding among

friends and social poise?

 

Yes, I am this mother filled with empathy, wanting to

shield and protect,

 

This tender, passionate lover wishing to be desired.

 

A composite of all of these facades, thrown up at will,

is interesting, but are they all that I am?

 
 
 

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