That which you see
May actually not be
That which you hear
Cold be a false song
For the are lives existing
In shadows and denial
The silent presence
Of a hearts demise
A minds despair
The whispered wounds
None do hear
Instead we see a smile
and hear a laugh
A promise repeated
I am ok, I am fine
But all is a lie
By those painted faces
Living their lie
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem