Masked Past
By: Blake Simons
Mask on, who are we
Pretending everything's okay, manipulating how we see.
Fancy cars, big screen TVs, in an attempt to string free from
reality
Often time’s truth brings pain, half-truths filled that everything
is okay
Lies built up for years at hand
To no surprise rage, anger, and depression take the stand
Who are we, who are we
Problems buried so deep we cannot see
Who are we, who are we
Problems buried so deep mentally we bleed
Alcohol and drugs used to try and cope with the symptoms
Of an abused man who tries hard not to fall victim
Tribulations faced in an attempt to make it out alone
His own soul diminishing, the more denial, the more it's gone
40 plus years of pain that's never been understood
He thought he could deal with it on his own, alone he stood
Same thing his father did to him he inflicted on his own son
Now I am here standing looking down the barrel of a gun
Pain and trauma manifesting to where there is no rising of the sun
Psychological wounds so deep, even the brightest of times don't seem
fun
What is there to look forward to when the past and present seems so
dim
Post traumatic stress and depression makes blessings so glim
When it rains, it pours, the pours manifest to storms
Eventually the clouds subside, the sun eventually begins to form
The dampness on the road, reminds one of the blue pasts red it bleed
Inner strength turns the blue into green, and a determination to
succeed
Ones demons sometimes reminded by a blue rainy day
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