Anxious Me

As it all starts to turn into a blur...
my fears start to surface.
My insecurities and worries show on my face clear as day.

Why is it this that I must try and conquer?
My soul, empty of hope,
because my troubles have made it that way.
Once full of pride and strength,
the cold reality of the world has proven me otherwise.

Try as I may to put on this face that everybody see's,
it's beginning to become too tiring for me.
It's like I'm watching the world pass me by,
but I feel like I'm stuck in time.
Stuck in my own world of anxiety and doubt,
continuously trying to pull myself out.

Days show glimpses of happiness and hope,
but just as a cruel tease...
My emotions eventually get the best of me.

They whisper to me such sad lullabies,
captivating me with all the truths I've held inside.

In the end, I know I will be set free-
But this will always be part of "me."

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