Portrait
Every day is the same,
Praying for a change,
To a god with no face.
But nothing changes,
So I paint on a simile,
I pretend everything is all right,
When in reality my life is falling to pieces.
My friends see my portrait,
They don’t see the real me,
They don’t see all the tears,
They don’t see the scars.
I f****** hate this,
It’s tearing me apart,
Being a portrait,
For people to look at.
I give up,
There’s no more painting,
No more making everyone happy,
It’s time for the real me.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.