Birds of a feather flock together and,
In much the same fashion,
Mad people gather.
We all wear Cheshire grins and swear
We don’t have an ounce of care,
But it’s only to hide that we do.
We care too much and too often.
We care about the wrong opinions
And waste our time trying to fix things in ourselves that
Were never wrong to start.
We laugh at our abnormalities
And pretend to not be insecure,
Even though our greatest fear is facing judging minds.
Sure we can joke and say life is a game and
We’re taking it one move at a time,
But what is a game without planning?
Anticipation and fear of the next unknown step?
We lie through our Cheshire Cat teeth,
Sharpened to points so when we smile
We hurt ourselves before anyone else can.
Those who smile often have something to hide
And those who smile brightest,
Hold the darkest secrets inside.