Everyday I wake up and wish I hadnt.
Everday I get up and put on my mask,
the mask that shows what I want to be,
What I should be.
My mask is happy,
full of joy.
My true self is angry, bitter and mad at the world.
I want to get out and be free.
Like a bird,
gliding over central Park during the summer,
no worries-i wish!
I lay there trying to sleep,
But the sting of the tears keep rolling down my face and my breathing continues to be labored.
When will I get out?
When will that mask no longer be?
When can I be who I'm meant to be?
