Am I really the girl with the chocolate brown hair?
The one who is called by the name sakshi?
Or is there a part of me kept out of sight?
A dark, evil side who creeps out in the night?
Am I really the one who today longs to draw?
Or was that a deceitful look I just saw?
Colours swirl across the surface of the page,
Now a face full of anger, controlled only by rage.
But if there's a bad side, there too must be a good,
Much lighter and brighter, a side that isn't as rude,
The one that looks into mirrors, studying its eye,
and thinks to itself, Who am I?
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