Poke underneath my skin and you will find
a place of tenderness that’s sensitive.
Emotions hide there out of sight, yea, live
beneath your vision, keeping your eyes blind.
You talk with me and you would never know
this hurt exists and stabs its piercing knife
into my every day. I cover strife
with laughter. No, these feelings must not show.
I am a puppeteer who pulls the string
to dance and act through daytime valleys low.
The disappointments shout in loud voice, flow
around me like a river’s current, bring
a shadow over sunshine. I ignore
them, favor joy that knocks upon my door.