"Hidden Moods"

Is it such a bad thing

To lay yourself bare
Or continue the lie
That you have no care?
Pretend your life
Is hunky dory
Keeping people happy
With a make believe story.
The problem is I’m not insane
Which in a way is a shame
Not down enough
To suffer depression
Or crazy enough for
A psychiatry session.
There must be
Many more like me
Hiding out there
Bumbling on in life
Without hope or care.
At least if you’re mental
You’ve got a label
Your cards are out
Slapped on the table.
I’m to normal…
To be a nutter.
Too scared of pain
To be a cutter.
From the outside in
I’m a normal chap
Only me who knows
My life is crap.
Once in a while
My mask will drop
Leading to the inevitable pop!
Seeking attention, even being a bitch!
Well ‘pot and kettle’
That’s a bit too rich.
My only crime
Is letting down my guard
Because being honest in public
Is fucking hard.
Low self-esteem
Is a burden I carry round
One that weighs me down
Without a sound.
So next time you ask me
How I feel
The answer I give
Isn’t real.
My response will be
My usual ‘not dead yet’
From my standard “I’m normal” set.
You’re not supposed to
Judge people by their looks
Same with covers
On Library books.
But if you size me up
From what’s inside
You might just be shop
By the pain that I hide.
 
Dulwich Poet 14^th December 2013

( I wrote this after returning from Lowestoft Town away, a crap game, in wet & windy conditions, where we lost 2-0, and my mood was as foul as the weather. I got into an argument with another Hamlet fan, for a brief spot of ‘handbags’, and I was annoyed, because I let my guard drop, and get so pissed off in public)