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How is my skin different from any human?Why my soul is not loved enough?When would these tears find solace?Underneath the skinOf a woman, is a human.When would the worldAccept that?I write in pain,Telling these told and knownSecretsI am confusedWhether to be happy?Or remorseful?A book of shared stories inked in the color of poetries. I wait for the day when these secrets, be erased.