I wear my sober 'poker face',While staring straight ahead,And those who meet me stare right back,And fill my heart with dread.For on the outside I look strong,But inside I am weakI put on airs that all is well,Yet knowing all is bleak.
I cannot let them know the truth,I live a constant lie,And when they ask me how it is,I give them my reply.I tell them all is wonderful,And everything is fine,And life is as it ought to be,Its 'oyster' is all mine.But if they stopped to look real close,They'd see through my charade,And then the clouds would open wide,And rain on
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