You can't tell by looking
at her mean, aggressive face
that the pain is deep and deeply hidden
you can't tell by looking
upon her as she curses you
the many times she has begged for death
You can't tell by looking
at her pretty, smiling face
that her heart's been shattered
you can't tell by looking
upon her as she shares her sweet love
all the while feeling dead inside
You can't tell by looking
at his sorrowful expression
that he once was a happy somebody
you can't tell by looking
upon him as he gazes in return
then turns his broken spirit over on the street
You can't tell by looking
here and there for God
through foggy, teary eyes
you can't tell by looking
upon the pain of this world
for inside, He is seated in your heart
Very well written, my dear, as well as very thoughtful. Pain does cause us to put on masks. We choose which ones we feel fit us best, which ones hide our hurt and mistakes the most, then show them off to the world in a unhealthy fashion. But art lets you unveil that mask, which you have just done. Very good job. Never stop writing.
Thank you. I wrote this quickly and then had to get off the computer so didn't get to revise as I wanted. I'm taking it to my journal and polishing it up. : )
So do I. If this is just the original "rough draft," it's not so rough. lol You must be experienced at writing. Many people would envy you for that. I use to be that way when writing. I think it just means you know what you want to say; there's no second guessing yourself. Again, very well done. Not everyone can connect to that part of them so easily.
Sherry