Skip to main content

Smiling on the Outside & Dying in the Inside


POEM 55: SMILING ON THE OUTSIDE & DYING IN THE INSIDE

She once was lonely and sad,
Having nobody to comfort her,
So she wore a mask that always smiled,
To hide my feelings behind a lie.

She found herself in a circle of friends;
With her mask, she felt at home
living and believing a lie 'I'm one of them'
But deep inside she still felt empty,
She felt like a grain of rice in a bag of sand
She knew there was a missing part.

Nobody could hear her cries at night,
She'd so designed her mask to hide the lies.
Nobody could see the pain and the crying
She's so designed her mask to be laughing.

Behind all the laughter
were the tears
Beneath the field of corn and wheat
were the tares
Behind all the poise and and courageous feat
were the fears.

They could see her everything
But nobody knows the real being

Dawn to dusk
Dusk to dawn
Slowly s l o w l y she was dying
hoping someone will hear her silent groaning

Dawn to dusk
Dusk to dawn
Until now she's still searching
For the missing link
Until now she's still searching
For the moment that'll erase her tears.
Until now she's still waiting
For the someone who'll wipe her tears.

But till then, 
though dying in the inside she keeps on smiling.
Hiding behind this mask she's wearing.
Hoping one day she can smile from the inside out
like the rest of them
and then rest in death.

Till then, she'll be here...waiting.
Smiling on the outside
Dying in the inside.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Curve And Colors Of Hate | Uwen Precious Ogban

The Curve And Colors Of Hate When the evening news had broken Father spoke with a tone of pain and anger “Nigeria is a whore,” And my mother agreed Painting sensual scenes giving you pleasure of what looks like a garden that hides a landmine. And how trying to walk through it becomes slippery A journey asking for crimson libations, full of fractures and ‘Had I knowns’ while you looked over the fence for greener  pastures Her sighs spoke of a menu full of thrills but you are served double horrors She, Nigeria, abhors you later on when it relinquishes you of value, Truly, she is an old ‘Whore’ My Father picked it from there, “Nigeria gets hard as rock” Wants of men despised Sullen moods recorded in poems, speeches, and events, snubbed For as long as it makes sultry suplex’s on a comfortable ring – Nigeria is satisfied “Son, Nigeria is you, your mum and I” Guilty to a fault Pained by happenings that come with fire and brimstone Let loose from bellies that should hold  patriotis...

Poemify | Haiku Writing

A haiku ( pronounced high-koo ) is short three-line poem that uses sensory language to capture a feeling or image. Haiku poetry was originally developed by Japanese poets. They are often inspired by nature, a moment of beauty, or poignant experience. Before I dive deep, I'd love to say this: I believe some of us here know what haiku is and what 'rules' there be that guide haiku writing. That's beautiful. We are here to learn, unlearn and relearn. So, I'd rather you keep your knowledge aside and learn something new today. Alright? Okay, let's walk over Jericho. Haiku is a Japanese verse in three lines. Line one has 5 syllables, line 2 has 7 syllables and line three has 5 syllables. Haiku is a mood poem and it doesn't use any metaphors or similes. Usually when haiku is taught, poets are only given the restriction of the number of lines and syllables. However, for good haiku poetry, more explanation needs to be given. This lecture is for poets who are willing...

Featured Poem: Slavery In Africa - by Uwen Precious Ogban

SLAVERY IN AFRICA We believe they rowed their boats of tumults into our region; carrying with them bags of conundrums, while we drummed our drums and jollied to their, intonation. The way they dressed, the way they addressed us Made us mime to the harmony and yearns in their speeches of a dawn to civility and hale: that was a start of the course of slavery in Africa. We still thought they were our brothers, because our chiefs rolled floridly with their proposals While we were mockingly disposed of In the field, or given to bespoken tailors as apprehends; as helps; in servitude; ‘posed to carry out orders as the come in flicks. We became babies in our own motherland we became cartage of their foreign plans. We cleared our huts so that they could find comfy and build on our strengths draining our tears as they wryly whipped us on our backs. Their wisdom their prowess They used to molest And we gazed in cluelessness Cause we still didn’t see it as slavery then – but as pain, so enjoyable....