All I am is a mask,

To keep others happy.

All i am is a shoulder,

For others to lean on.

But i'm not mad at them,

But at myself.

All I have are dreams,

And whimsicle fancies.

I have no one real to comfort me.

No one real to listen.

All i ever do is pretend to be happy,

So others will be too.

In essence i'm my own puppet,

Putting on a show for all.

I let only the happy side of me show,

I can never show the sad side fore others will cry too.

I can't say "i'm sad."

Or "I'm scared."

All i can do is wait till some one comes,

Some one calm, gentle, wise, and open minded.

Some one that won't get mad at me,

For telling them my sorrows.

I've seen that person,

but only in my dreams.

I've seen that others love him too,

And i sink away.

How could i hope for some one like him,

I'm just an ugly doll.

all those others are lovly and happy,

Whilst all i am is sad.

How could i compeat with them?

It's obvious that i can't.

I sigh and go back to my dreams.

Reality hurts so much.

But reality is sinking slowly into my dreams.

All i can do is cry.

Cry and hope that it all ends,

Or that the person i'm looking for will help me.

But then again,

How can a puppet cry?

How can a mask look?

How can an ugly doll hope?

Maybe i am in some other part of reality,

The part that hurts the most.

Unable to sence the good things in life,

Only able to pretend i do.

I want every one to be happy,

And i sacrifice my own happines.

Every one can still be happy,

Because i'm no one.

No one at all,

Just a thing.

A person warped by fear,

into a puppet.

Fear of loss,

that is what has changed me.

I fear others despising what i am,

That fear is a constant reality.

Then again,

i'm not to be pitied or loved.

But thrown away,

and hated.

Hated by all,

but a few with kind hearts.

I still look at him,

watching as all the happy faces surround him.

None of them are sad or lonley,

Or even masks.

No mask has the courage,

To face some one like him.

The one thing that could save them all the sorrow,

And the self pity.

I hate self pity,

But it's hard for me to not pity myself.

I'm just an ugly doll,

That's how i'm seen.

I have good things to me,

But only a few people see those.

Every one else sees the borken and ugly doll,

Not the little fox waiting for some one to love her so she could forget her self pity.

Does he see it?

No he hasn't.

The smiling faces crowd around him blocking me from view,

How could he see me?

Or even want to?

Who wants to see an ugly doll?

For what i know his kindness and wisdom,

Could all be a mask.

For all i know he could be a mean person,

It's happened to me before.

I tell some one my sorrows,

And my back is where they lay thier knife.

Isn't it funny in a sad sort of way,

How i have no life?

And how i want to be happy?

And how i want some one to love?

Yes it is funny in a sad way,

Because thats all i am.


Just me speaking about my self pity in free form poetry, i'm really down at the moment

and poetry helps, but only when i post it so don't worry about reading this crap, unless

you like people's sob stories. oh and flame all ya want, i couldn't care with the mood 'm


things have

been falling apart latly and i am having a hard time keeping up a happy face for my friends

cause some of them are easily made upset. The things that have been falling apart are my

nerves, this is just a phase i go though like every two months,rather common really so

there's no need to really worry about me for those of yuo that would be worried, In a

month i'll probly be posting happy poetry, and i mean it, not fake happy poetry, real happy

poetry. now i'll stop yammering