THE OSCAR

You're so strong, you're so mature.
Would they still be proud, once they knew
The hell I went through?
There is a little girl inside of me, screaming:

Make this pain stop, please, why can't you hear me?
I ignore her, not knowing what to say.
She would be terrified, if she knew.
I don't know how to send the pain away.

So I play a role, and they think I'm okay.
But I'm hoping that soon everyone will be afar.
They hurt me, and say:
How mature you are.

As if I had no scar.
Then I pretend.
I'm a
Hollywood star.

//-//

If you think I should post part 2 ( Grief) and part 3 ( passion) let me know :)