I am more than a face you may remember.
I am more than a name you may have heard.
I am more than a number in system.
But I am afraid.
I have been hiding beneath a translucent sheet,
One that covers me from my head to my feet,
Ever since I discoverd the feeling of pain
A feeling I hope I will never have to experience again.
I have ceased to smile.
There is so sense in hiding your emotions
People will notice you're sad for a while,
But will not attempt to ask about your commotion.
I keep my opinions to myself
Ideas are ideas, no longer a form of wealth.
No one wants to know how you think
It is simply a saddening truth that the world no longer wants to by in sync.
People don't want the truth;
They crave the dazzle of mirrors and smoke:
They want a mystery that cannot be solved by a slueth.
They don't care whether or not it's a hoax.
I don't know how I can emerge from my shell
I don't know why anyone wants to believe in the existence of hell.
I can't figure out how to stop being sad,
And I can't figure out how to stop feeling mad.
I'm not sure if I want to forgive,
I do not know where to begin.
I do not know how I cannot fret.
The world is far to demanding,
It is always commanding:
Be beautiful, be happy, relax.
Those words make me feel as if I am being stabbed by an axe.
I don't want to take off my mask.
I will then be more vulreunable, as I was before.
I will be exposed to the questions they ask,
And exposed to the pain forevermore.
I am afraid.
I pretend I am more than a number in the system.
I pretend I am more than a name you may have heard.
I pretend I am more than a face you remember.
But I am not.
I am nothing more a mask the people see
A mask that does not wish to be removed, but wishes to be worn taut
I am nothing more than an average human being.