The Truth...

I learned a long time ago to stuff my feelings, and I do that a lot when I write, I even do it when I write in my own person hidden journal, what’s up with that? I am not afraid of the truth of my feelings, for me to write them, I'm just tired of the "look" in the eye's of other's. "What you’re not over this yet? it’s been over 8 years sense you buried your first son and daughter, and 2 sense the last, you have had enough time to deal and move on."
I'm tired, so I hid behind my mask.

We Wear the Mask

WE wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask
~ Paul L Dunbar