How often can you put on a brave face?
Because this one is wearing thin.
This mask of indifference I'm showing,
is slowly crumbling in.
The pain behind is showing,
for all the world to know.
My face is lined with the torment,
I did'nt want to show.
My mask is slipping faster now,
each day, a little more.
How long can I hold it,
before it crashes to the floor?
Then my face,
my tortured face, is there for the world to see.
The pain I have been hiding,
since the day you first left me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.