This is a poem from Canada's perspective about himself as a country and as a human being. I do not own Hetalia.
Where did I go?
I was noticed once.
I was loved.
Adored.
Who am I now?
I am ignored here.
I lost the shine to my eyes.
Missing.
What is my name?
I don't remember.
You don't either.
Forgot.
Am I seen here?
I'm not sure really.
It really does hurt.
Painful.
Canada, who?
America? No...
I don't have blue eyes.
Purple.
Am I sorry?
Yes, I really am.
I'll try one more time.
Hopeful.