Just a scared little baby.

"You're so confident. Jesus. I look up you!" she told Poa.

Poa smiled knowing better, but having the hope to believe. If only Poa could actually be that person. Behind all the pretences and highlighted prejudices was the scared little baby. Scared of the world, of people. Of disappointing. What if Poa would never be appreciated? What if Poa wasn't capable? What if Poa could never succeed or even achieve anything minute? Not like Poa had anyway.

Poa had grown good at hiding these feelings. They hardly seemed to matter anyway. Did anyone want to listen, Poa wondered - still does presumably.

Poa had to achieve better, to fulfil Poa's other shortcomings. poa wasn't what was expected - not everywhere anyway. But what hurt was that even where it was expected Poa could not keep up. Poa could never be the best - or unique. Poa could not even help. Poa was miserable - still is presumably.

The disappointment that was Poa still managed to keep up a good face and help others believe that all was good - or perhaps not. Some saw past the veiling, some did not. Some idealised Poa, while almost everyone hated Poa. Hate is strong. Resentment is hurtful and being aware of being a disappointment is worse. Poa's struggle was like everyone's - nothing new or unique anyway.

Why does Poa matter? and to who? Don't you have your own problems, to read about someone's who is probably too scared to share them?

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