Joy is my middle name.

I prance around the stage of life

the comical character

made of flighty lines and happy spirits

I’m the jestmaster, the fool

and people love to throw their roses

So I put on a winning smile and catch them in mid-air

But as the applause fades,

the last bows are made,

I watch the lights fade turn black, the curtain falls

Looking down I see the thorns of those roses

digging into my flesh

Playing the part is exhausting sometimes

Joy all year-round is only a fantasy

I wake up not wanting to leave my bed many a times

I walk up to a mirror and here’s what I see:

The tragic hero drowning in anxiety

I think of where I have been,

where I will be, where I want to be

And sometimes those don’t match

If I think about it too long, and stare at my dark eyes

where many say they’ve found stars

I behold only black holes

It’s a lot like looking into the face of the moon

From Earth, it’s glowing and glorious,

but in truth, the Moon is full of mountains and valleys

covered in craters where the thorns called asteroids

have collided with its surface.

It catches me off-guard and I cannot comprehend

that all of this will be gone once the play’s over,

I'm afraid tickets are non refundable

I put on my mask anyway

For others aren’t as good of actors

appearing on stage in their own garbs

Perhaps a cameo of my smile might uplift their show

Even if the laughs are only for a brief minute

For Fear, I can hide underneath costumes I call my armor

With Pride, I smooth my brow the way I would shine a helmet

Because life is a battle

And Joy is my weapon of choice.