by Cole McNamara / perilpoet
The idols on the television, they are tired too.
We only see a glimpse of them;
we don't know what's true.
When the work as waned,
they wash their masks away.
They vaporize vices and voices
to curb the crusting concept
of another day to day.
Those strangers on the subway, they are tried too.
We only see a glimpse of them;
we don't know what's true.
They carry branded briefcases,
and wear boots, and suits, and skirts;
adorned with metal armored plating
to protect them from what hurts.
Those loved ones in your family, we are tired too.
You only see a glimpse of us;
you don't know what's true.
No, don't think that you're alone
and you won't make it through.
Life is rough, we feel it too.
There's so much life left in you.
You are tough, we feel that too.
You have to keep on fighting.
If you like this piece, you might also enjoy:
- Culdesac Crew — a Hearth poem about pinecone wars, dumpster-diving, all-night Pokémon marathons, and the bittersweet truth about our childhood crew.
- I am a Writer — a Hearth poem about wobbling between doubt and delight, quibbling and scribbling your way into finally claiming “writer” as your name.
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