Behold my charming smile
and kindness in my eyes;
both belie the churning
of the hurricane inside.
My civility, it knows no bounds
as I extend a helping hand
while my soul, it shrieks in agony
at the trauma that left its brand.
The calm of my exterior
masks the tempest that’s within,
as I struggle just to survive each day
with the obligatory grin.
Extending every courtesy
as I pray that I don’t die
from the ever-present terror
that in my heart does lie.
Think about the gentle souls
you encounter every day
are they barely hanging on
behind the quiet words they say?