The man with a thousand masks.
He hides in his room,
And sleeps under his bed,
He confides in no one,
But the voice in his head.
He laughs at himself,
And he writes every day,
And during the night,
His demons play.
He doesn't sleep,
He's scared of nightmares,
Instead he likes to think,
Of demonic polar bears.
His poems have a happy front,
But sadness lurks inside,
In every word there's meaning,
A meaning that's hard to find.
During school he wears a mask,
One for every hour,
He licks sweet lollipops,
To stop him turning sour.
The mask falls off,
When he lays on his floor,
His wrists turn red,
And they feel really sore.
That's the story of the,
Man with a thousand masks,
Life definately aint,
A short walk in the park. |
