A Book of Poems

Mask

On the surface the main battle is subsiding,
With time marching forward with no pause.
Suffocation and the need to escape colliding,
While I falsely stand tall and give myself applause.

Hidden wounds and toxins fester inside me,
Masked by a facade of doing well.
Only I hear and feel the cries and pleas,
Going deeper and Futher into the hole I fell.

Oh little Alice the true wonderland is dark and heavy,
Wonder recklessly it'll rear it's ugly head.
A reflection of reality which is just as deadly,
Which can make you feel hollow and dead.

Here I am carrying on and pushing through,
But I feel so defeated and exhausted.
Battered and wounded trying to build my life anew,
Grieving and weeping for all my losses.

A mental disease that feels like it'll last,
Having to get through the day.
Here I am wearing my mask,
Wishing I can fly away.