Not Understood, Misunderstood

I wrote this poem last year about how people thought I was happy when I really wasn't.

Not understood, misunderstood,
living something I’d hoped, I’d dreamed,
understanding all that I could,
living a life everyone knew,

now I’m not understood, misunderstood
hiding beneath the spotlight.
Limping through my twisting fate,
Not understood; misunderstood
It’s almost too late.

Being not understood, misunderstood
Fighting the fight of desire to the death;
Running a race, breathless, trying not to choke—
Not understood, misunderstood,
Locked inside uncovered and fresh,
I am not understood, misunderstood.
Piercing through my flesh.