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Underneath my clothes,

Underneath my painted toes,

Uderneath my smile underneth my face,

Underneath my home underneth this place,

What l lies in my soul and how i feel,

Secrets i keep to myself and say there not real,

I don t no how it got started and I don t know how or why,

But I don t mean to but everything turns to drama and everything turns to a lie,

when i get angery i want every one to suffer with pains,

Then i say things i don t mean guilt and hate flow throgh my veins,

Im not good at saying sorry and saying how i feel,Just tell another lie and say it is not real,

I tell myself that but the pain and gult i still feel,

When others accuse me i just appeal,

I hate instigaters than why do i instigate,

I guess it is because anger and hate,

Im sorry i instigate,

tell me what you think please........................