Not a poem |
This is no poem, no line, nor a phrase
Not this time
This is a chapter of a life, not yet gone
I keep it all hidden, beneath a surface of life
A surface of lies
It implies that I’m well, but surely I’m not
For since long I’ve been broken inside
Death never found me
But the despair sure did
And the mask that I’m wearing
Reflects only suffering for those that can see past it
Because sometimes, I’m not strong enough to keep it up
Sometimes, I’m just empty
I’m telling you this
To ease up the pain
So I can gather up strength, to hide it all away
Because then I can at least seem happy
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| Kommentarer | | Louisean - 3 feb 15 - 22:59 | | I like this. relatable. |
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