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She Was...

Sometimes I wonder
If she ever knew who she really was
She was always fighting
Constantly with herself
Over who was really was on the inside

Was she innocent
Was she frail
Was she lost
Or was she too far beyond anyone's reach
She often fought with herself
But somehow
I often thought
If it was that she was without hope

She was everything she wanted to be
Everything she feared and desired
But she often failed to see
How broken she really was
And how sad her world had become