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Drop the Mask and Let it Crack
Drop the mask and let it crack
Don't pause to hear it thwack
Don't shed a tear for the broken thing
The tears it hid so long will sting
Don't hide though, any more
It's time to call your lions roar
Let the mask go
That isn’t you now, no
You are who you are
Smile or no, your pain is a proud scar
It's time to heal now
Not to heal them with your ok and unworried brow
Don't give a thought to the awful mask
It shouldn’t be such a task
Your smile was your addiction
Not anymore, know it was your affliction
It's ok to heal
Don't feel like it's to steal
The smile from another
That would be to smother
You
well apperently because of a weird poem I wrote its time to heal? ok. for the record, my poetry is from so weird creepy darkness inside and I don't get it, but I think this means I'm ready to heal. it could also just be that I was writing about a picture and that so happened to be the topic, but no, that's not how it felt. so I guess that's good news I didn't know.
anyway, so I was trying to clear out my short story inspiration doc and I found this, but a poem was coming to mind instead of a story, so a poem I wrote.