Hide

I hide my face in my palms Something is wrong with me? I guess am not good enough To ask a question on your knee. Probably I am not pretty? Probably not young anymore? I am not enough of a lady? I am so bad. But how so? Do I clean too little? Did my food tasted not good? Was coffee I made too bitter, Or my language too crude? I am a failure as woman, Not good enough to be loved. I should hide in the dark forever And try to not look always so sad…  
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