Hidden Cries

It's the stronger ones around us
who are, inside, not so strong;
It's the ones who smile sweetest
who have something really wrong;
It's the heroes who seem fearless
who hide all the darkest fears,
And the Truth is hid: Deception
is not quite what it appears.

Sometimes those who show no hardships
are the ones who know it best;
Some times strange things said while smiling,
as if joking, are not jests:
Yes, and sometimes even Angels
have their Demons locked away,
And you can't see future storm clouds
if the sun is bright today.

But a fire still has smoke,
although it sometimes uses steam,
Little whispers still make noise,
although their volume's not a scream.
But steam and jokes, if whispered,
always fall on dimmer ears:
And it's the Little Cries for Help that no one hears.

It's the leaders, it the 'cool' ones,
it's the people on the top,
Who are spinning round in circles
and who don't know how to stop;
It's the people on the ladder
who are higher than they deem
That have fallen into chasms
Deeper Down than Darker Dreams.

But the fall is never silent:
there has always been a shout-
Sometimes a word or gesture
that you cannot figure out;
Throwing back of heads in laughter
can be throwing back in pain:
All the camouflaged Deception
makes the Honesty less plain.

Yes, the cry is there, as always,
though the words may disappear-
And it's the Little Cries for Help
that those the closest never hear.