Sometimes I pretend to smile,
be happy.
When I walk into a room putting on a face I wish I could rip off
and show what I'm really feeling.
Wanting to lock myself into a room and never come out.
But it seems I sarted figuring out everyday that I put on a new face
it kept me in a place of happiness
somewhat keeping me steady.
Like a place for me to get away for a while.
but the real me still waiting to just pop up,
if I really just show up will I be able to control myself?
So for now I just have to pretend
to get by day by day...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like this one good job