My Mask

This is something I wrote a long time ago. I don't like it all too much, but I figured it's still share-worthy.

     My Mask

It seems like I’m always unhappy,

and smiling just feels like a chore.

I never see joy in my future.

All everyone wants is more.

                                

Love is the last of my worries,

even though it’s the biggest I’ll face.

Life’s too short to be always despairing,

but some worries I just can’t erase.

 

On the outside I seem like a nice guy.

Fake smiles are hard to detect.

But buried under the garbage

is a layer you’ll learn to reject.

 

Some say that I’ll be quite successful.

Under normal conditions that’s true.

But it’s obvious something is wrong with me

and I desperately need help from you.

 

But what can I say to you?

What can I ask?

How can I talk with my smile,

my mask?

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

You are a very good writer. You can make your point very clear in your words. Happiness is knowing purpose and reason. Being young we have a open road of decisions. Better to smile then cry. I like the poem. Had purpose and a very good story.
Coyote

[Rhonda]

this was very good.

[wolfshrew]

I agree, you are a very good writer.
Everything I have read of yours so far
has subject matter that is easy to relate to
but is filmed with a uniquely contructed
view

[three]

i hate myself for making social moves that seem to be very obviously calculated. "fake smiles", shrewdness and insincerity all seem to be such regular parts of my life.

very nice writing!