Hard rain falls on this place.
Makeup falls from my face.
The skies are dark and dreary.
I feel nameless and less cheery.
I am less the man without makeup.
God knows I can be a screw up.
Are drugs the only way to cope?
Does faith give you any hope?
Living in a masquerade waiting for that next fix.
I hide behind the reality I've chosen. I'm not immune.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very sad but excellently written.