of a happy face
are tears and pain
that's hard to erase.
Maybe it's self pity
or a cry for help.
But there are days
I can't take
the mask off the shelf.
The tears come without warning.
The anger without control.
Everything's a battle
between what I feel and know.
It's not something to be proud of
This emptiness I hide.
Lost and lonely.
Hurt and angry.
Living off of pride.
Regardless of the problem
solutions are not easily found.
It's not a matter of who to blame
more a clearing of ground.
Internal and external battle
when will I find my strength?
to deal with this . . .
to still persist . . .
the road with endless length.
Whether anyone can understand
I'm sure that they can guess
Behind a mask of happiness
is a mortal mess.
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