People say I’m happy.
People say I’m glad.
They don’t really see me, though.
They don’t know I’m sad.
They only see the smile
I plaster on my face.
They don’t even notice when
I put it on too late.
They don’t see the truth:
That I’m hurting and I’m beaten.
They choose to see the joy
And ignore the broken.
If anybody asks
I’ll say “Just let me be.”
But I don’t want to be alone
With I, myself and me.
Does anybody notice?
Can anybody help?
Or will I just continue
To use my mask upon the shelf?