I might seem happy – doesn’t mean I’m not tortured inside
Just want someone to confide about what really goes on inside
I can be brave – doesn’t mean I don’t feel the fear
Marching forwards doesn’t mean you don’t hear the sceptics jeer.
You haven’t been struck yet, there’s a storm on the horizon.
No danger yet still keep your eyes open.
I look strong, but I’m actually weak
My victories pale in the face of my defeats
You might think I’m an angel with some stupid halo
Yet inside me – places where angels fear to go
The white painted walls of sepulchres
The healthy who seek for a cure
I’m bleeding inside, like rivers running dry
Just because I don’t tell you, doesn’t mean you won’t find
Why cant you take the time to understand
I’m not always the man you think I am
photo by EveBlackwood