Inside when I am breaking.

You do not see the damage you have done.

No tears from my eyes because my crying is silent,

but a smile upon my face.

The illusion of my existence.

 

Would you cry for me if I were to die?

Would you weep? Would you care?

Perhaps you would relish in the sympathy of others.

Fake tears in your eyes, a real smile upon your face.

The illusion of your existence.

 

I wish I could show you the pain in my eyes.

The tainted colours of my soul.

The shattered pieces I carry inside.

No glue to bind me.

No love to make me whole once more.

It’s the illusion of my life.

 

You walk through life a gracious man.

Not wearing the vile seeds you grew.

The deeds that stain your essence.

A proud man for all to love.

That is the illusion of your life.

 

This is what this is.

This game you play.

An illusion of father and son.

I am nothing more than a mirror for you to gaze and smile at your perfection.

 

A narcissistic façade.

 

Created in the illusion of your creation.