Playing dead

Never a smile to show I hide in the assumptions,

evil I may seem but what do they know?

I have taken my heart to a secret place,

where nobody can get close to hurt me.

I feel much more than what you may see,

crying scars paint the picture well.

I was never able to be what I wanted to be,

always an actor in a Shakespearean play.

I play dead just to keep hidden my pain,

not comfortable with the looks you give me.

The past is more than just the past to my heart,

fading away in the shadows and you wonder why I hurt.

I can’t stop crying, the grief is more than one person can bear,

yet you deal it to me in spades to get your thrill.

Leaves falling in the Autumn of my life,

winter has already had her way with me.

I play dead to remind you that you too are alone,

we may live together yet somehow end up in a distance.

When I hide my heart it is because I am terrified to be known,

what if you too break me like the days I still recall?

Black to me is the most beautiful poem in itself,

so much to be unsaid with saying nothing at all.

I feel pain and love yet somehow nobody sees,

I guess I look like the devil to blind eyes ignorant.

When I am alone I cry for the pain others are experiencing,

I just can’t say the words in verbal ways.

I play dead because that is what I feel,

alone in a crowd my life presents itself.

I have a heart only I can see,

just to play dead for you.











Johnny Newell