by A.W Ellis

They say I’m strong, they see me smile,
“A beacon of grace,” they said for a while.
They nod, they cheer, “You’re doing so well,”
But inside, I’m trapped in my own private hell.
The world keeps spinning, I play my part,
But grief carves scars deep in my heart.
My laughter sounds hollow, my words feel fake,
Each breath I take in is a chore to make.
They see the mask I’ve carefully drawn,
A veil of strength to greet the dawn.
But behind the facade, the truth resides,
There’s a storm of sorrow I cannot hide.
The nights are lonely, my tears run free,
I speak to shadows no one can see.
My whispers are silent, filled with words I can’t say,
Its a weight I carry every single day.
I wish they knew, I wish they’d see,
This pain that’s silently drowning me.
To share my truth, though, it feels far too stark,
So I’ll just wear my mask and sit in the dark.
Strong, they call me, but thats definitely not true,
I’m just surviving, like all people do.
One day, perhaps, the mask will fade, if I could just find peace in the life that’s remade.







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