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, and almost impossible task,
is finally over, so I lie down
and wait patiently for the day that I die.
I cry, I scream, I bawl, and sleep,
even though I have promises to keep.
I wait, and 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 the day.
A world full of rainbow, not one shade of grey.
Of course I'm not okay, I'm not fine,
no matter how much I seem to shine.
I don't even know why I feel this...
why my existence 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 will actually be okay.
Yeah, I know depression sucks. I put on a mask, and when I get home I break down, wanting to die. It hurts going through school pretending to be okay, and when someone asks if you're okay,...
The Mask
Published by Family Friend Poems November 2009 with permission of the Author.
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I know how that feels. The only love I have felt is pain. This poem describes me. I wear a mask to hide the real me: the broken, sad, depressed - a girl who thinks about death. This poem is telling the life of the writer.