It’s like a broken or wounded heart,

heavy and weary.

It gets better and sometimes it doesn’t.

The pain digs deeper

crushing the core of your happiness.

Like a worm, it eats all your joy away

and fades your true nature into oblivion.

Leaving you holding masks in your palms,

too tired to find your true self.

It changes you,

making you a master crafts man.

Blocking anyone that wants to strip you naked and see your wounds.

Your mind becomes a battlefield,

where you fight with no hope of victory.


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