Tears Behind The Mask

My shadow couldn’t find the mirror
In the meadow of terror and horror

Unseen deeds won’t see any of my face
Not for sigh, stare, and amaze in balance

Covered lips keep a thousand smiles
Through the undone life and unspoken lies

And people keep my words in silence
Stabbing me with the party and the dance

I’ll keep growing till I hit the sky
I shall not reveal on your goodbye

But for me the wound is too grieve
Too hurt in this new year’s eve

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@anotherstranger, a poem of hurting, apt metaphors you made use of to convey the pain. Emotional sparks could spur poets to write, if not joy, sadness.

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