It’s the crying on the inside
Then lying when saying I’m fine.
As if my own sadness were a hidden voice.
It’s being discriminated against
yet expected to accept it.
It’s hard work not being my best work.
It’s holding back my feelings since
no one listens anyway.
No more than laughter in the warm dark.
It’s waving instead of talking.
That smile on my face
it’s better than it was before.
Of course, there’s nothing to it.
So is that why you expect it of me casually,
the way you expect the sun to come up.
But what happens when the sun doesn’t rise,
and my smile doesn’t shine,
or is it just my obligation.
Rain or shine
that I’ll always be fine