The Mask

January 25, 2018
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When I wake up every day and pick up a mask
I say I’ll get the real one fixed
tomorrow. The real one lays on the floor
shattered into a million pieces
of my thoughts, regrets, and sorrow.
I wish I could get the help I need
To fix my broken mask

So while I lie to myself every day
I put on a smile and say it’s fine
While the pain eats me alive on the inside






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