You'r not your age,
nor the size of clothes you wear,
You'r not a soul,
but the pain in your claws,
Your are not your name,
or the dimples of you cheeks,
You'r all the books you read,
and all the words you speak,
You'r your croaky morning voice,
and all the smiles you try to hide,
You'r the sweetness in your laughter,
and the tears you've cried,
You'r the songs you sing so loudly,
and all the loneliness you've fought,
You'r the places that you've been to,
and all the lies that stuck in that so called 'house',
You'r the things you believe in,
and the people that you love,
You'r the memories in you bed room,
and all the future that you dream of,
You'r made you so much beauty,
but it seems that you've forgot,
When you decided that you were defined,
By all the things you are not.
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