I keep alot to myself because its difficult to find other people who understand but sometimes the worst place I can be is my own head I hide behind fake feelings just to make others happy people will tell me that life goes on but for me thats the saddest part I think im afraid of being happy because whenever i get to happy something bad always happens I lost myself trying to please everyone now im losing everyone else trying to find myself
its like i smile but i wanna cry and i talk but i just wanna stay quiet I pretend like im happy but im just not its like tears come from my heart and not my brain I dont think people will understand whats going on in my head when i dont even understand it myself

The courage that my mother had went with her, and is with her still: rock from new england quarried; now granite in a granite hill. the golden brooch my mother wore she left behind for me to wear; i have no thing i treasure more: yet, it is something i could spare. oh, if instead she'd left to me the thing she took into the grave! - that courage like a rock, which she has no more need of, and i have. based on the 2nd stanza, how does the speaker feel about the golden brooch that was passed down from the mother to child? question 2 options: a: the speaker thinks it was a waste of money b: the speaker places a high value on the item c: the speaker never wears the brooch d: the speaker feels it could be easily replaced