The Little Flower

I Cannot Pretend

I cannot pretend to be what I am not.

Though I've suffered from great heartache,

To be a light, an optimist, I've sought.

'Twas all a huge mistake,

For I cannot pretend to be what I am not.

~

I cannot smile radiantly with a sparkle in my eyes

While struggling just to keep them dry,

And each time a new part of me dies

Whenever in vain I try.

~

I cannot pretend to soar in cyan skies.

It only deepens the pit of desolation

In which my troubled conscience lies,

Unable to be redeemed from my pit of damnation.

~

I cannot pretend to bury my incessant anguish,

Which wrenches my heart and suffocates my soul.

No matter how sincerely I endeavor, this sorrow I can not relinquish,

And of me it has begun to gain control.

~

I cannot pretend to suppress the storm that rages inside;

Its frigid winds that shriek and wail

Will excruciatingly howl and not subside

Until over me they do prevail.

~

I cannot pretend to hold an inkling of hope

That someday my sorrow could be lifted,

That I could ever, to rise from my depths, find a rope

That would lead me to a place where I would be exulted.

~

I cannot pretend to be what I am not.

In vain I have fought,

But it has led me to become quite distraught,

For I cannot pretend to be what I am not.