They blamed me for that which i didn't ever did,
They told me that my scars, couldn't ever healed....
They made me bleed,
They made me half dead,
And at last they said,
"Look at the depth of your wound,
could it be ever healed?"
My heart was filled with pity and sorrows,
I hated myself,
I hated me for the things which i haven't done,
But the cheerful heart, scattered into parts,
The sweetest smile was gone,
I became complicated,
I became quite,
Someone asked
"What's wrong with you?
Why are you so quiet?"
And I said.  Everything is alright,
By using my fake smile just as a shield...
© Lipsa