My face is wet, but my heard is dry.
Reason be known as to why,
My face be streaming with tears,
Yet no emotion escapes my eyes,
With pain and trouble, some may rise.
Yet I've held my head, proud and tall,
Though my emotions always did fall.
My emotions made of plastic,
Foundation so weak.
I hide my emotions, to be clean.
There is no blessed day for me,
As I silently struggle, how could I be so weak?
No chain is weak, no heart is strong.
Could I ever be so wrong?
My emotions unbind, as I unwind
Into my false reality,
On the internet no doubt.
Where I can hide,
The shadows point away from me,
It makes it easy,
I can hide so peacefully.
I'm a little lamb, yet a lion.
A weak beam, a concrete foundation.
I'm a mixed mess,
As I end this poem,
No cry for help shall escape even if I yelp,
For my pride will not allow it.
YOU ARE READING
Canvas of the Soul
PoetryI've decided that I would write a book with all the poetry I've written, mainly for fun and so that I can talk to people about my work, improve, and enjoy it for the masterful assortment it is. I'm going to be constantly adding to this, since it's...
