I scream in rage at the world.
The indifference of the multitude towards the suffering of the one.
As the faces pass me by in the world seeing me not as I am.
yet seeing what I appear to be in there small eyed views.
The mask I wear is near perfection, it hides all.
My pain, my desperation, My hatred, and my anger.
They twist and pull at me through my soul.
Forever tearing me apart. Yet my mask is unresolved.
It stands as the last defense of my sanity.
When it falls and my soul floods out all that I am will be lost
Sheer madness threatens to overwhelm me day to day.
And as the mask cracks my sanity begins to flow further from me.
By: Despair (a.k.a. Thomas E. Simmons II)