The Ugly Truth.

The truth.

A treasure of sorrow and heartbreak, I am
Those who wish to lift their souls
whisper, what should not be uttered, to poor innocent me
The uglies of their lives are forever stored -
in me, tight with pursed lips
they enjoy the others hidden in the dark.

I walk alone at night,
seeking comfort from the social restrictions,
society has rejected me:
Night beckons towards me with an outstretched hand
I took it with great disdain,
Forgive me now, I make pain.