A mask of contentment
A mask of melancholy
A mask of emotion.
They are all just masks
To cover the intense truth.
My lips are never tugged
Upward or downward,
They're always in a straight line.
My eyes never
Shine or glisten
They're always blank and distant.
You don't understand the pain
It is to tie the mask
Around my head and keep
It in its rightful place.
My true eyes never seem to blink;
My true lips never seem to twitch.
You can possibly confuse
Me for a corpse with its eyes open.
One day you'll notice the
Emptiness behind my eyes and words,
You'll see that no thought
Roams around my corrupted head.
YOU ARE READING
Hurt, Pain, Regrets
Poetrywhy do we endure such pain, in such little time? {my rant of poems}
