Day to day I wear my mask.
With every aching hour, the more painful becomes the task.
To hold in what I feel deep down.
I smile at each person as if I were a clown.
My smile forced and painted on.
People ask whats wrong.
I start to answer, but then bite my tongue.
I rethink my reply and end my sentence with "I'm fine."
I say it with sadness in my voice hoping they get a sign.
But in the end it's all for naught, for my mask is that of a wall.
Both impenetrable and inescapable.
I want to take off this mask, but I'm alone and incapable.
So I sit back and laugh at myself as tears run down my face.
How can I be so pathetic, how did I put myself in this place.
The sound of my sobs rattles the mask leaving a crack.
Maybe there is hope for me after all.
Maybe there is an up to this long fall.
The sadness starts to fade away.
I'm at a loss of words, not knowing what to say.
I rest my head against the wall and finally smile.