you see them morning, noon and afternoon, but you dont see them at night.
when only few stars twinkle and the scar they have been keeping surfaced.
or the grin of an evil that they replaced with act of sympathy.
you dont see them struggling with the fight they were born to lose.
and you dont see them toasting champange over somebody else's mistakes.
you see them noon, afternoon, evening.
but you dont see the morning when chaos happens.
you dont see their bared face with tears path stamped over their cheeks like a river.
you dont hear them telling themselves to be happy for the next 12 hours before being miserable again when they are alone.
somewhere, maybe across your house, maybe in the intersection near your block.
maybe accross the sea, maybe someone next to you.
in the morning with the hint of alarm clock and a neat folded blanket.
with the clothes they aren't comfortable with,
put on make up just to cover the black circles around their eyes,
they look in the mirror and they sigh,
they are ready to be someone they potray in a couple of minutes.
and so they throw their sadness under the bed.