Thursday, November 22, 2012
Again with a mask, well I guess it's needed to be worn in this type of place. This type of world where your judge by the cloths on your back by the look on your face by the blood in your vanes. Another to hide behind so no one can see the pain, a pretend smile a smirk on my face to keep those who judge me at bay. My mask is slipping of and the first strike is struck. Straight to my heart it goes I beg and plead for it to stop my heart is weak and can take but so much. So they back, back to where they came but wounds are still their almost as if they where born their. I'm putting my mask back on before I get struck again. What? Oh no I didn't tie it fast enough and now theirs more a group of them standing on he floor. I'm trying to fly away but I'm chained down, I plead and cry but no one here's me the boy behind a mask trying to be like them instead of being like me.