The Constellation

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Her pain is inevitably concealed in the softness of her skin, and the enduring expression of her eyesWhen beneath her courageous exterior lies the voice of her weary cries And though she laughs, and smiles acting as though there isn't a single complication her life Behind closed doors she aches upon the gruesome component of her family's strife Oh weren't those the days, when her and the family were together and her happiness was anything, but impure Feeling safe in home of which she felt ideally secure It wasn't until the day she came home to find her family's house on fire That not only killed her family, but killed her desire At their funeral she didn't shed but a single tearAnd disregarded the fact her family was ever there As others reminisced of her family's unforgettable memories She only recognized their existence, as the past and the how it use-to-be'sTo fake her emotions took incredible strengthLike reaching for the top of a tree with skyscraping length And just like touching the ground would be much easier than reaching the sky It was much easier for her, to fake a smile than it was to cry  It's the times like those that make you wonder where you belongWondering just how anything could get worse, or implausibly wrong Since they could probably just try not to wonder Or the world might seem like an endless, complicated blunder  

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