You Will Never Know Poem by J.B. LeBuert

You can look at me up close or from afar,
There isn't a tell, or even a scar.
A hard exterior is my façade.
You'll never know that I feel roughshod.

A smile is my usual exterior look.
No one will ever read me like a book.
I don't want your tears, sympathy or pity.
I don't want an intervention by committee.

You got your own problems and woes;
Now I treat almost everyone like foes.
It's not that I'm tough or even serene,
I won't let you in, if you know what I mean.

If I turn away quickly, it's to hide a tear.
You may not think so, but I'm dying in here.
I keep telling myself to tough it out,
When a little voice tells me to scream or shout.

You may think that I'm distant, cold or aloof,
I'd rather you think that, than give you the proof.
I've been working out, to keep up the hard exterior.
My weakness is that my heart is inferior.

I tell myself to be alone is best,
Reality is that I've lost life's zest.
I plod along each and every day,
I think I've forgotten how to play.

I read a lot and and try to stay busy,
With the stuff that makes some people dizzy.
I'm no better or no worse than you,
You'll just never know when I'm through.

It's not that I'm tough, I just can't complain,
It's one of my many faults, that still remain
Hidden behind this tall and thick wall,
Behind which I hide everything from all.

I guess if there's a moral to this little poem.
You shouldn't make your brain your home.
If you want to be alone for the rest of your life,
Build walls and keep to yourself, your inner strife.