will does not force my mask,

a loney mood and empty flask,

does make my mind go numb,

behind this smile that you see,

is not a face so carefree,

abandon hope of helpful hands,

that sheers this mask from where it stands,

my mask of flesh and blood,

a scab of what I want,

to hide the face of real,

shall remain forever there,

to hide what i feel,

and protect what is scarred,

and so i walk in shame,

with my mask of fame,

until someone see's what I feel.