Beautiful and delicate,

like the petals of a rose,

yet hard and cold,

just like a stone.

Worn out, scratched and bruised I am,

the face hidden inside a dark shroud;

On the outside, I look happy and cheerful,

Yet deep down, forlorn and sad I lie.

I am too far to be touched,

too close to be unseen,

too beautiful to be ignored,

yet too ugly to be liked.

Never has anyone seen me,

I am invisible and yet not invincible,

for several are those

who have hurt me.

I am your joy,

I am your pain,

I am your love,

I am your hate.

I am your soul, your mate.