Illusions created,
Every single day,
Happiness, peace,
Never pave the way.
For what lies beneath,
The laughter and smiles,
To prepare us for,
Unforeseen trials.
We pretend all is well,
When we really know,
That anger lies waiting,
Waiting to grow.
Out of control,
Bursting into flames,
Arriving at the scene,
Playing all these games.
The illusion of peace,
Doesn’t last too long,
It always tells us,
We were very wrong.
To trust this illusion,
Like water turned to steam,
It was an illusion,
It was just a dream.
We pretend we are friends,
When all it really takes,
Is one small mistake,
And then I see it’s fake.
All of your kindness,
Your niceties and such,
All of your patience,
Your very gentle touch.
Were all just lies,
That you want me to believe,
To maintain the illusion,
Now I simply grieve.
That I even bothered,
To play this game with you,
That I took the illusion,
And did not see through.
Your pretense, the kindness,
The niceness that you showed,
The anger was there,
You just had it stowed.
Deep in your heart,
You couldn’t hide it though,
It had to come out,
Thanks, now I really know.
That you will never change,
You’ll never mend your ways,
The illusion won’t last,
Peace will always be a phase.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow... great write, Aisha! I can certainly relate to this... well done! ! Brian