I’m on a stage and no one is in the crowd.

And on that stage I am a ugly, I am a pretty, I am ME.

I hear footsteps approach and I run behind that curtain.

But Why?

Am I ashamed? Am I scared?

Why?

More footsteps approach and soon it sounds like a stampede.

I sit day and night behind that curtain waiting for them to leave.

But they don’t.

They won't.

I hear laughter, I hear crying, and I hear everyone except for me.

I want to join but I can’t.

I can’t  remember who I am only who I wanted to be.