This poem is about a person, well, in this case that person is me, who always has a dual-personality.

This dual personality consists of the personality intended for when he's on display, that is, when he's with people, or when he's out in the open.

When this personality is displayed, it has certain characteristics, which include, but are not limited to: 

1) Always hiding his true emotions, such as fear, or anger to maintain that posh, and sophisticated image. Hiding his under confidence, and putting on a show while dealing with imposter syndrome, but no one ever aware of it

2) Always showing positively perceived features such as laughing even when he's dying inside, showing sophistication, elegance, and containing so much potential, according to him, and others.

When the second personality, rather the true personality is displayed, usually at home, or when he's alone, it includes:

1) A bombardment of negatively perceived emotions, the ones that everyone feels, but not everyone hides, such as feeling inferior to everyone, suicidal thoughts, raging inside, depression, and much more.

There is also an extreme lack of having someone to confide his true feelings in, resulting to all the emotions just getting bottled inside, like a terrible-made table with an extremely fine polishing job done over.

He believes that life is cruel to everyone who has potential, or is "great", as seen from his experience, all the successful people have gone through terrible times as afterall it's just a part of life.