A Hidden Story


The curtain seems nice and beautiful

Filled with graceful colors

But there are a few things that seem unusual

Like a biscuit without butter


People come to ask her questions

And ask for some advice

She gives them gladly some simple suggestions

They walk away saying “ wow! She is nice!”


The curtain stands firm and strong

Never gives a frown

She smiled as if nothing was wrong

Never seem to break down


The curtain keeps getting tugged on

Pulled and used

She still stands upon

Even tough she gets bruised


People seemed to not notice the rips

But she knows how to keep them covered

With the beautiful smile on her lips

She thinks no one will ever discover


Behind the curtain where she is really found

Where alone she’s standing

With peoples problems she is drowned

No one wants to be her understanding


She doesn’t worry about her feels

But more and more about  the others

She begins to notice the missing meals

And wants to take off the colorful cover


She is in need of a friend

Not a temporary game

One that ears would lend

One that will call her by her name


She’s been there for others

Because she cares

But not even her brothers

Would help her up that stairs


She knows she is being used

But fakes that she doesn’t care

She is feeling a little confused

But doesn’t want to share


Yet with all the rips and bruises

And drowning in pain

She stands firm without excuses

She knows she cannot complain


She needs to acts like nothing is wrong

And covers her loneliness

Because in reality she is fakes a theme song

Of happiness and boldness


That beautiful curtain I must say

Is worth so much more

She helps others everyday

She is like a breeze on a shore


Gentle, loving and caring

The curtain stands strong

Even though the inside is worth sharing

She doesn’t want to share her song


The curtain still is shining and gives a smile

Hides the pain with her colorful cover

She knows that showing her pain is not her style

But one day others will discover


Before the curtain in which I stand

I wrap my self with it

Not letting one soul know there is another land

Only I can look behind it


Because I only know the real woman standing behind the curtain

And for you too look… will be uncertain. 


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