He chose how the world viewed him
He was social and lively exclaimed the pictures on the dresser;
A great athlete, sung the awards on the walls,
But he wasn't content, stated the moist tissues covered by the soft blankets.
He was torn apart, screamed the broken family picture
Hidden underneath the bed, with broken glass
and broken trust digging deep into his heart.
His father was gone, wept the lonely side of his mother's
bed, and the drawers that used to caress his fathers
clothes. His house was vacant, cried the
empty rooms and swept out closets.
His hopes were shattered and his heart was heavy,
Said the shower head that would listen to his problems
and disguise his sadness. He wasn't truly happy,
Whispered the mirror as it watched him put on the
Mask of a blissful human being every morning.
The mask which was his filter. His filter that covered
his shadows, and highlighted his smiles. But He was strong,
said the door which locked his troubles on the inside,
and on the inside only.
They all agreed. He was strong.