My Control
How can you smile
knowing that peopl are dying
because they are sick of trying
to appease the critics,
to appease the man,
to appease the woman,
and those in command.
They are taking their lives
because they have none for their own
because the world is taking their identity
because the world is taking their joy
because the world is taking everything that they know,
I smile falsely at them
wishing for something more
but it keeps scrutiny away from my door.
I laugh gently,
hiding what is my pain,
so nobody can claim it is all in my head.
So I am in contol of my life
and my death.
I play by the rules of the world
but I am making my own,
hidding everything in a way so that I am in control.