The Mask

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 21, 2017

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Submitted: July 21, 2017



I'm great, fine spectacular. In a way I relish every night, and I live every day.

I live, I laugh, I write, I sing. I wonder what the new days will bring.

Then I get home, and I take off the mask.

The day, the almost impossible task, is finally over, and so I lie down, and wait patiently for the day I die.

I cry, I scram, I bawl, and sleep, even though I have promises to keep.

I wait, I wonder, and cry some more, and I ache and burn from my very core.

Then I'm not alone, and the mask reappears: out goes the grief, pain, and all of the tears, as I am a happy person cheerful all of the day.

A world full of rainbow, not one shade of grey. Of corse I'm not okay, I'm not fine, no matter how much I seen to shine.

I don't even know why I feel like this... Why my life is one long, endless abyss.

But it is, and will be, so I cling to life, as one day I might slip, and end it with a knife.

But I'm still here, no matter what my dreams might say, and I hope that one day I might actually be okay.

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