Masquerade

Happiness is my disguise,
For what lies beneath the skin,
A barren, empty soul,
Naked and full of bruises,
I’m wounded without out an ounce of elegance,
I’m stiff as rock,
Invisible as wind,
And tears fall like rain,
I feel human,
But this world –
Treats me like I’m unearthly,
A hurt so deep,
And exposed,
It has become a public disgrace.
Every aspect of life,
Is staged, scripted, and often computerized,
You either follow what has been written,
Or you’re programmed to follow what has already been done,
Unoriginal and old,
Children have now become adults,
I hate what this world has become,
And I hate what this world has made me!