You feel the tears,
Cascading down your face,
You wipe them away quickly,
Hoping they didn't leave a trace.
Instead you force a smile,
It's become the easiest task,
But you hide it so perfectly,
No one can see through your mask.
You love unconditionally,
But your souls withered and worn,
You put anyone before yourself,
Between sadness and joy you are torn.
These people are named the dark angels,
For it's your pain they bear,
And they will always do so,
Until it's their skin they tear.
YOU ARE READING
Journal Of The Fallen
PoetryThis is a journal of poetry I've written over the years
