The Mask

You look at my face, concerned you see no smile;

I hear your concerns and put one on for a while.

The mask I wear is thin and barely fits my head;

I wish that you could see the me that lies beneath instead.

I push, I pull, I twist, I strain to be all that you need;

And though I hide, deep inside, the lacerations bleed.

I do not want your sympathy, I will not let you in.

This prison’s mine, I say “I’m fine”, but suffering lies within.

I struggle to don this face of cheer, praying you won’t ask;

Beneath it all, pain, withdrawal, and suffering I mask.

I want to keep you safe and sound from the truth this life can be;

I’ll gladly take every burden. Place it all on me.

My back may buckle, my soul worn thin, though you may never see.

Take my heart, my soul, my life, that you may be set free.

Occasionally the pain slips through, you ask “Daddy are you sad?”

I’ll fake a smile and pull you close. “This world is yours, be glad.”

When my time comes and you lay me down, do not shed a tear;

It was the greatest honor to protect you from suffering and fear.

As you live your beautiful life, do not mourn or cry.

It is the greatest privilege, just to see you fly.