Within The Silver Glass
Within the silver glass I spy
the mask I wear, this perfect lie.
A happy face, but it’s not me.
I show them what they want to see
while deep inside I slowly die.
I cannot let them see me cry,
so I just smile and wave goodbye
then check for signs of pain, set free
within the silver glass.
“With broken wings I’ll never fly.”
I turn away and softly sigh.
My world consists of tragedy;
a scream that echoes silently.
The fools can’t see, it is not I
within the silver glass.