She lives
In the castle of her lies
And no one can hear her cries
Beyond the walls of desperate laughter
The moat of mimicked joy
She sleeps
On a bed that looks so soft
Until you look under the covers
And see it's made of rocks
She sings
A song that sounds so nice
But no one ever listens
To the lyrics filled with ice
She smiles
When everyone's around
But when they look away
You can only find a frown
If you take a closer look
If you look into her eyes
You can see her heart
And she's dying inside
You'll see the way she moves
Like she's dangling from a thread
A puppet on a string
And the puppeteer is dead
Nobody wants to know
And those who do don't try
Because she is different
It makes her want to cry
This is my depressing poem.
