The Mask

I lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling,

I try not to feel but can’t flee this feeling.

I feel the cold darkness hugging me tight,

I feel this in bed, when I lay down at night.

And once the sun rises, I wake from my bed,

I pull out a mask, and cover my head.

The mask is not rubber; it doesn’t have hair.

The mask is a smile that I’m forced to wear.

So I open the door and start on my day,

Pretending the blue skies, to me, aren’t grey.

I appear happy, that’s what they assume,

But once I get home, I return to the gloom.

I open my door, again darkness greets me,

I put up a fight, but it always defeats me.

I return to my bed after pretending I’m fine,

I return to my bed, where I spend most of my time.

I’ve almost found comfort in the darkness’ arms,

To some, this notion may raise some alarms.

I’ve carried this feeling with me so long,

Not having it here might almost feel wrong.

So I lay in my bed and I sleep and I dream,

That maybe there's others who aren’t as they seem.

Maybe I’m not alone in this nightmare,

Maybe there are others like me out there.

I wake up again and I wake up with hope,

I’m tired of being a misanthrope.

I have the power to change who I am,

Never thought I could, now I know I can.

I wake up this morning and don't need my mask,

Suddenly smiling isn't as hard of a task.

I look outside and the grey skies turned blue,

Despite everything I had previously gone through.

A stronger person today then I was back then,

I finally feel like myself again.

The darkness can no longer control my mood,

I’m starting this day with a new attitude.