This is me

Why keep trying when no one cares? Why keep hoping when nothing is there? Why keep fighting when no one sees? Why? This is me.

Barely seen, rarely heard. On the fringe, life is edged. Best move on. No one aware. This is me.

Full of misery that’s hidden beneath, to never know how deep the grief. This is me.

Why this loving heart when they are tart? All to be forgiven. This is me.

Why long for admission among opposition? Why this inclination among those of aversion? This is me.

Never see an equal, always seen inequitable. Forever whimsical, unfailingly sentimental. This is she.