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The Mask

I'm great, fine, spectacular. In a way
I relish every night, and I live every day.
I live, I laugh, I write, I sing,
I wonder what the new days will bring.

Then I get home, and I take off the mask.
The day, and almost impossible task,
Is finally over, and so I lie Down,
and wait patiently for the day that I die.

I cry, I scream, I bawl, and sleep,
even though I have promises to keep.
I wait, and wonder, and cry some more,
And I ache and burn from my very core.

Then, I'm not alone, and the mask reappears:
Out goes the grief, pain and all of the tears,
As I am a happy person, cheerful all the day.
A world full of rainbow, not one shade of grey.

Of course I'm not okay, I'm not fine,
No matter how much I seem to shine.
I don't even know why I feel this...
Why my existence is one long, endless abyss.

But it is, and will be, so I cling to life,
As one day I might slip, and end it with a knife.
But, I'm still here, no matter what my dreams might say
And I hope that one day I will actually be okay.

Review Request (Intensity): 
Please use care (this is a sensitive subject for me, do not critique harshly)
Editing stage: 


This is so well written and the raw feelings are so pronounced, I love the first stanza it was s bright and maybe how you should be as a young lady and devil take all.
Then you go into that dark place again, life is shit sometimes and more so at an age where feelings have no base or permanence.
I don't think I would like to be back there again, I remember having conflict and battles with myself over many things, just think of the butterfly and it's struggle to emerge from the chrysalis, just think of these times as that emergence into life, then also with your youth think of what you can become no matter how hard the struggle is.
I left home at 15 and three months old and joined the Royal Air Force here in the UK it was very hard,
constant pressure from those older than me, and there was only one lad younger than me, bullying and being lost in a mans world it was a constant fight, and as you know at that age it was so hard.
I have some of my writing from then and if I can find it I will post and let you see how I was coping then, meanwhile you hang in there, your writing is something to remember those days of emerging into the grownup world.
Call us if you need to, Yours Ian

Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

Definitely a major new talent on the Neopoet scene, perhaps eventually the world scene.

Without pretentiousness or obscurity you paint a vivid picture of the struggle so many of us face, remember the Quote by Henry David Thoreau? "Most men lead lives of quiet desperation."

Such truth. There is a strength in writing with elegant truth. Bravo.

A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'

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