• Most of the time, our tears are held silent, to never break the careful composure of our false contentment.
    And as we try to break the silence, we are drown out by cheerful smiles, congratulating us on our nearly perfect facade.
    The day passes by, only leading us to believe we are alone in what we think, and feel, And when it comes time to sleep, we eventually break.
    The corners of our mouths fall down, natural and easy, yet immensely painful, as if we were fooled by our own lies.
    Sleep comes peacefully, and we treasure each passing moment, trying to outrun our pitiful lives.
    Morning comes, solemn, and much too soon, leaving us with little time to create our perfect, masks.
    At this, I slip, and leave mine a bit translucent. You are, yet again congratulated.
    Though I am still myself, I am unrecognized; witch leaves me with no one.