She gazes in the mirror
And is displeased by
What she sees - no natural beauty
Is enough for her -
So she needlessly puts on the mask
She is (almost) expected to wear.
"Conformity is one's greatest
Comfort, for it shall keep you safe"
Are the words she religiously repeats,
Though she knows they are not true.
She will smile and laugh
And - perhaps the saddest thing is this-
No one will even notice the tell-tale
Signs that something is wrong.
But no mask can hide the truth from her.
She cannot pull the wool over her
Own eyes, adept though she is at
Blinding the rest.
Ah, but the rust stains are left behind
By the tears that no one sees her shed.
And she will carry on, continue
To smile - though a grimace is what
It soon becomes - until she lies red
With no salt-water reprieve,
She will not smile again.