• My face is beautiful beyond compare, yet it is only from the paint. With rosy hues of red and blue, I look just like a saint.

    Despite my efforts and the whispers, I know what is beneath. But these are things told over again, a lie I cannot bequeath.

    You must be "painted" as they say, for everyone must remain the same. It is important to look and act right in order to be sane.

    To them you are nothing but part of the crowd; to be played with as a toy. But there is something more out there, and I want it for my joy.

    I have tried to tell of my distress to the ones I hold dear. Yet they simply state my wants are nothing, and caused by childish fear.

    I wish to remove this painted face, which I have done way far back. If you look closley you will see my heart harbors a couple cracks.

    How can I show the way I am, the face beneath this mask. For I want the world to know me, is that really too much to ask?

    This mask I hold is considered a blessing, but for me a horrible curse. The fact that I plan to be happy... does that make me all the worse?