Like a rock she stands without the support of the ground

She has walls built three million feet high

Neither words nor complaints hardly ever escape her mouth

She can love and hate but not make a sound

She's quiet and shy yet loud and obnoxious

Anxieties and fears lead her life

She flees to those who need her most

Transparent is she who is always trying to hide. 

I am not stone I do in fact cry

I do have walls built three million feet high

I don't complain for fear of judgement

The line bewtween love and hate are quite thin. 

I cling to family and friends for life I hold dear

Those who think they have me figured out are not quite so near

I'm not perfect, nor am I a saint

Transparent am I? 

Ha how quaint.