Support
This world is like a play.
A world caught up in drama.
The actors are those considered popular,
Surrounded by peers.
Crew members, Costumers.
Supporting roles, and friends of the populars.
Those who fall into the background,
Those who aren’t unlike me.
Those are the ones with the best skill.
Their acting is impeccable, their lines never set still.
A world where it was like this, you could tell who was who,
Would be nearly ideal.
…But life isn’t like that.
There are no clear heroes or villains.
Those who aim to hurt, are the easily masked.
The ones you can count on, are often hardest to find.
And then there are those still locked in support,
Never telling their own tale.
People like that are hard to define,
Their lives so intimately tied.
…This is me.
I am locked into that role,
The one that was last to cast.
I act as though happy, try not to let on.
At times I wish I could go, leave this place.
There’s one thing stopping me.
There are those, that we come to love in this life.
And they define my fine line.
I wish I could leave, and never look back.
But I won’t stand hurting, those who see through my act.
