What is it, that I'm not?
Though the ******'s  on the edge of this storys' plot,
Carrying my problems uncut
That within,  I was shot.

What is it that I don't have?
Finding me difficult for you to love.
I am not as numb of what you & they think I was,
But forever this feelings will last.

You plus him , was your dream,
Ignoring me at the not list stream .
This sight's torturing me ,
Without  happiness nor glee.

What is it that you hate?
Was it my ***** pride cape?
Or this edged heart shape?
What is it?