Who Am I?

Have you ever been sitting in between 5,000 people
and felt completely alone
because none of them know you are there
and none of them know who you are
they may know you by name
but if your body was not attached to the name
would they still recognize who you are
in behind the mask that we all seem to
hide behind.

No one can seem to find their very own core
It is lost within
Hidden where the pain lays
Where the truth lays
Where who we are is
not who we really want to be
Fear changes who we are on the outside
and this fear causes us to never know
who the real person is.

Masks,
they hide are opinions
and are judgments,
our angry
and our hate,
They display them in such a back handed form,
It's the difference in feeling genuinely welcomed,
and there not being a friendship outside the meet and greet,
Invest some time,
Does anyone really know?

I feel angry
Anger that stems into all of my other emotions
Like pain and hate.

Are you the girl that knows what it's like to
Run from it all
Sing like no ones listening
Trapped in a whirl
Confused in an oblivion
Cutting into your skin
To make it all seem so real.

Are you the girl too afraid to face the mirror
You'll never see something you like
The picture just ain't what you've seen,
Are you the one who jumps off buildings and
holds guns
and pushes it just too far
So no one can see just what you really are?

No one seems to care about the core,
Because to be real with someone, means vulnerability
Which just isn't something we're willing to do
No one is willing to fight for just what is right..
And not what is right for them
But for the real under lying cause
Where all of these issues stem from
We're too lost with what's on top
Too dig in deeper and go find the core
Either no one cares or we're all lost in fear.

Are you the girl who can't tell
who holds a secret so deep
That if the wrong person knew
Your love would be FREAK
People who once respected you
Completely forget what real love is
Can't define your faith
Because God didn't make your race
The cut just wasn't made for your kind of love.

Are you the girl whose written death
Just wasn't a success
When you walked out
The next door was still the same hell
Your execution
Was left waiting in that long line
The penalty of death was just waiting your turn.

I don't really know how to end quite what I'm saying,
I'm no writer and I'm no poet,
Simply someone with Impact and Change tattooed to their body,
Someone with uninformed truth to share,
Someone lost on where everyone's reality runs,
Someone scarred from humility,
Someone who's vulnerability would never fully be taken,
Not that I think no one out there doesn't feel the same way,
I've just never seen anyone admitting to this very same name.