Behind The Mask

I sat down on a pristine white chair with my tired eyes, tired mind and tired soul just to write a rhyme.

My shoulders fell down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. Am having sharp pains under the bottom of my right rib cage. It hurts a little to breathe fresh air, an influx air that's not stale or smelly. The burdens of life always weigh me down. And the events in this world always hurt me.

I'm very frustrated of life and I see no happiness to happen. So, I painted a mask fits right to my face. I'm living behind a mask for a while. I used to smile on the outside when I'm frowing inside. I used to laugh on the outside when I'm crying inside. I used to have a good day on the outside when I'm dying on the inside. Sorrows hidden beneath the mask. 

Leaving behind the nights of terror and fear, I rise. Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear, I rise. It's time to get back up and fight back for my life. I built a large retaining wall of false facade and conveyed my unpleasant pains in terms of rhymes. The wounded mask begins to fade. The mask, it sheltered all of my pain. It protected me from everything it hit. Thick and strong armor.