Inside

When people say I'm happy
I smile, yet inside I cringe.
I'm glad to see my acting
has to another decieved again.
I don't answer honest--
It's something I can't do.
I can't just say, 'Well no, life sucks
and how might I ask are you?'
The looks I'd get, though so sincere,
would be nothing more than pity.
They'd say, 'It'll turn out.' and pace away
and my life would go back to being shitty.
Rather, why can't they be a critic
and decipher my every word.
Then everyone would know
and from my mouth it wouldn't have to be heard.
I'd lose so much, but I'd gain inside--
At least after it was out
it wouldn't be something to hide