I'm not perfect, but I'll always be real.

In real life, I'm a really smiley person. I smile when I talk and I laugh.

I am a romantic, but I do put up a barrier around myself, so it is hard for people to get in and to know the real me.

I am not a perfectionist, but still I seek perfection. I am not a great romantic, but yet I yearn for affection.

If I was white, I would be like John Wayne. I feel like a tragic hero in a Shakespeare play. Somebody who pulled himself up by his bootstraps, from poverty.

Sometimes, when I'm alone, I cry, 'cause I am on my own. The tears I cry are bitter and warm. They flow with life, but take no form. I cry because my heart is torn. I find it difficult to carry on. If I had an ear to confide in, I would cry among my treasured friends, but who do you know that stops that long, to help another carry on?