Happening Mind Game

Fake smiles and laughs,
at things so unfunny,
pretending to care,
as bees are to honey,
your painted on faces,
molded expressions,
uncaring nature,
hidden by the sun...

But as night falls,
I can see through your masks,
Realize your desire,
no longer hear those laughs,
and from the shadow dwells,
that troubled soul,
who had a bad hand for so long,
he decided to fold,
uninspired, hidden, beaten and forgotten,
reason to live,
suppressed and spat on,
so he stares at the world,
with judging eyes,
and they stare back like piercing knives...

And in his corner,
of comfort and acceptance,
his summers time out,
and silence accepts him...

"You don`t know me,
you don`t even care....

try to wear my chains,

and you don`t love me,
you can`t even bare,

what I am....

what I`ve become"

its his psalm...
what he wrote,
before he slipped away,
troubled soul,
troubled man,
troubled life he didn't play.
And as the sun rises again,
the day seems the same,
could some understanding soul,
spread their view on another victim,
to this depressing,
real,
happening to me,
mind game....