Nobody sees what I want them to see,
When I am hidden behind my mask
The ones of true soul see a cold, heartless rock,
While the other rocks see a pathetic outcast
In both groups I am a freak,
When I am hidden behind my mask
I am a bright sunflower in the foreboding grotto,
Yet I am a black sheep among the beautiful lambs
What do others think of me,
When I am hidden behind my mask? I’ll tell you
Those with which I share the darkness
Feel as if I insult their dominion
By welcoming in the light
And those with which I bask in the light
Feel as if I plague their kingdom with scum
By dragging in the darkness
Where do I belong,
When I am hidden behind my mask?
Those who care not what others think,
Who reside in the dark,
Or those who are constantly fighting amongst each other,
Yet are discretely envied by the former?
Perhaps I belong in solitude,
To wallow in the joy that I take
In both my soul, and the mask that conceals it
I thrive on both; my life would end,
Were either to be changed so that the soul would match the mask
But solitude kills me more than my failed attempts to fit in,
When I am behind my mask
I cannot live with it, nor can I live without it
This is the curse of my wonderful, yet reviled,
My magnificent, yet detestable,
My lovable yet despicable mask