Under the name “Diana Loomis” written on the inside cover my mother wrote my name in. I dont know if I had never noticed or just forgotten.
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn out tools:
I’m building, I swear I’m building, It only looks like I’m going crazy and withdrawing from the world. I’m just scared.