Sometimes we paint the picture clear;
The days of winter love and joy —
But others know a different truth:
The lonely girl, or lonesome boy
Who wear the mask of perfect lies
From our encyclopedia
That we the outside world will show
By means of social media.
The truth is mixed, it’s good and bad –
But we don’t share the story —
Instead we manufacture words
And hide amid the glory
Of thinking that we’ve won at life.
We stow away admissions,
And take an empty sort of pride