Of all the tears, of all the pain,
by Deborah Lynn Janik
Of all I’ve ever known,
There is something deep inside of me
That makes me feel alone.
Not your average feeling,
Not your average state,
Not the fear, so haunting still,
Or the minimal food on my plate.
No one ever knows me;
I doubt they ever will.
I’ve been feeding on an unknown me,
And now I’ve had my fill
The thing you’ll never notice,
The thing you’ll never see,
The thing that keeps me separate
Is the HiddenHeart of me.