Pretender

This is what I am
But you know that I am not
I will pick two things to love
And write a poem with a dove

The pain is far too harsh for me
And I would crave some sympathy
But I know I don't need it
I pretend I'm not conceited

I'll wear a mask of mystery
For my personality is blunt
I'll hide in the shadows
But secretly frolick in the rays of sun

A small smile will play with my features
Twisting them
And a lie will leave my lips
But I can't help it

It's up to the world to find me

But they aren't looking.