Conceited

If I told you I was tired, would you not consider me weak?

If I told you felt weak, could you still consider me strong? If I showed you all my flaws would you not hold me to my wrongs?

What if my wrong were meant to right? What my light was dark, and my dark was light?

What if my light mood was just a mask, masking all my insecurities i never ask?

But asking you all these questions only leaves with more queries, and though I maybe acting queer, I see the answers clearly.

And this is why I hold my head up high,  inverting truth, yes I am conceited, and thats no lie!