Your sonorous laughter is the epitome of happiness,
and your smile is a perfect example of bliss and joy.
Your gleaming gaze is formed of radiant rays of sun:
metaphorical waves of ecstasy diverging from a star.
But when I deeply gaze into the wells of your eyes,
I can see that in their depths rest pain and sorrow;
although you carefully veil them with covering lids.
Your lids are of tin - easily adapted, but easily torn
open to show your festering wounds -
wounds that would be long forgotten
if you would keep from picking them
like a fidgeting child with dirty hands.
When coping foreign gaze
you wear your band-aids,
but by the end of the day
they've long peeled away.
They say that before solving a problem
you must first acknowledge a problem.
You see clearly, but your only problem:
you'll only confess to empty darkness.
I know you crave your solitude,
the safe succor of being silent.
I always hear silence is golden,
but sometimes, quiet is violent.