Why do we believe our ego so?
It sneaks in, reaches, seizing a deep hold
When we feel low and oh so vulnerable
To believe we are sheep concealed in wolves clothes
We're only deceiving ourselves
Our hell is our own making
That we create to keep at bay
From the traits we deem forsaking
A tall tale from a small frail
Part of us
That was once in arduous hardship
But honestly isn't the heart of us
We are love
Like artemis we must guard and protect
Our innocent marvelment
Before impressionable judgements scarred them
And hardened our skin like marble
What's wrong with being unremarkable
With open arms, in all that we go through
To remain modest is honorable.
To Be Frank: 