The Tearful Mask

The Tearful Mask

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Summary

This poem's persona begins as that of an observer, focusing on a young male that, despite acting as any other human youth may do, suffers from concealed mental pain that has moulded him into a corpse like person who goes day by day living with intense mental disturbance.
Share :
Twitter

Summary

This poem's persona begins as that of an observer, focusing on a young male that, despite acting as any other human youth may do, suffers from concealed mental pain that has moulded him into a corpse like person who goes day by day living with intense mental disturbance.

Content

Submitted: March 15, 2017

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: March 15, 2017

A A A

A A A


The Tearful Mask

 

He smiles and laughs like all of the masses,

Eating, drinking, going to classes,

Another sheep in the herd or brick in the wall,

Being with ‘friends’ and having a ball,

Appears to have a purpose like he has an ambition,

Mostly calm and collected, in a fine condition.

 

Although, is this him actually real?

Emotions within he wishes to conceal,

 

A masquerade,

Revealing himself is what he tries to evade,

A convincing disguise upon his face,

The real him in a corpse moving about the place.

 

Inside, his mind is under attack,

A fractured heart of deep jet black,

Scouring for a non-existent salvation,

Experiencing a life of total stagnation,

His soul’s in a war to help him survive,

While the devil whispers to him;

“What’s keeping you alive?”

His mind laid siege and left to devastation,

Absence of light and joy’s extermination,

His conscious creates a distorted perspective,

A deceiver and suggests that he’s a defective,

Rivers of tears restrained to his interior,

Only to believe that he is the inferior,

Love has left scars on his battered heart,

The world has decided to tear it apart,

These left-overs are a boy that’s pessimistic and hollow,

He sees no future or any happiness to follow,

He screams and calls yet nothing can be discerned,

Perhaps he has some pages that will never be turned.

 

- Jason Millar


© Copyright 2017 Jason Millar. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

Booksie Spring 2017 Flash Fiction Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Jason Millar

Sky Meadow

Poem / Poetry

Path to Shangri-La

Poem / Poetry

Red Remembrance

Poem / War and Military

Popular Tags