I see the way people look at me, |
Their cold eyes burning into my soul |
like a blazing dagger of hate and loathing. |
My face a mask of indifference, |
my heart a torrent of pain; |
Love is a foreign experience, |
hope is but a dream of a foolish soul. |
Look at me, behind the mask; |
I am a poor creature in need of love. |
Look at me, behind the mask; |
I am fragile |
like dried rose petals drifting in the wind. |
Do not turn away from me, |
I am human, too. |
Look past the imperfection, |
past the grief, |
past the eternal torment of my soul, |
and you will find someone just like you. |
Look at me, behind the mask... |