Why should I keep writing?
Why should I even put pen to paper?
Why don't I just stop?

Does writing get me appreciation?
I wouldn't say so.
But then again,
I didn't come here for appreciation.

I came here for me.
This was my choice,
My decision,
nobody elses!

Nobody can tell me who I am.
I just have to figure that out for myself.

Why don't you talk much?
Why that's an easy one,
Why would I talk when nobody will listen?

If they would listen what would they find?*
That's easy too.
They'd find *art,
They'd find poetry,
They'd find joy,
They'd find sadness.

But most of all,
They'd find *me.

I run away,
But it's fast and catches me.

I stay and fight,
But it's stronger and beats me.

I throw it from a height,
But it spreads wings and flies.

I drown it in a lake,
But it knows how to swim.

I wear this mask to hide,
The pain and sorrow that dwells inside.
The crushed feelings, the broken dreams,
These tie my mask together at the seams.

My mask is a happy one,
With a grin from ear to ear.
But all this smile does,
Is shield everyone from my anger and fear.

My mask makes people laugh,
And for that I am grateful.
But in truth I fear if I take it off,
These people will become hateful.

They fall in love with my mask,
And that, I can clearly see.
But the thing about my mask,
Is that my mask... is not **me

Why* does the sun radiate so brightly?
So it can seem half as beautiful as you.

Why do the birds sing so loud?
So they can sound half as joyful as you.

Why do the stars shine so bright?
So they can illuminate your beauty for me to see.

Why do the flowers smell so sweet?
So they can express the feeling we share.

Why do your eyes consist of more than one colour?
Because they are sunflowers that brighten up my day.