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.