Collapsing under the weight of my demons,
I put on a clown face and smile while I am scheming.
Though I am surrounded by the fakeness that I hate,
I grin and whisper under my breath that it may be too late.
For I am collapsing under the weight of what has been given to me.
God gives you only with which you can handle faithfully.
But, how do I know to have that faith in the Almighty?
Am I strong enough to go back to the way I was, trusting, pure, and happy?
I have no choice for otherwise I am collapsing, I say
Retracting myself to meet the dawn of a new day.
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