It Is

What did I reap, and what did I sow,
When I was this soul without letting you know?
Behind the scenes, the words, and the mask,
I’d have shown you it all if you had only asked.
I am not what I seem; I rarely show all my colors.
Many things have been shown, incomplete, to all others.
My walls were defenseless only around you.
You had many a chance, I was bared before you.
There wasn’t a glance, by her with the keys.
I watched through the keyhole, upon my sore knees.
She could have freed me from my cage of fear.
She had looked once or twice, but didn’t come near.
Can she even see me? -Does she know I am in pain?
Is it my fault I’m not seen through her lane?
Does my mask to stop others blind her as well?
Is it I who stand guard at my own prison cell?