Fooling the Fools Isn't So Bad

Only a true friend can tell when my smiles are real;
Can tell just how I feel;
What I'm thinking during class
When my eyes drift to the window glass.

Any false friend can see when I smile,
Yet not if they are true or foe.
When they talk I'm like a mile:
Long and far away.

A stranger can tell when I'm hopeless,
Meandering in the streets.
I know I must look amiss;
Dreams and reality that will never meet.

Emotionals can see the pain underneath my sleeves
Even if they can not see any of me.
Can see the depression I keep hidden,
Can tell just by hearing my voice.

My parents can tell nothing
I'm just a happy teen!
Inside I'm dying again
With no more self esteem.

Teachers think I'm really quiet:
Quite a big mistake.
Inside I feel like screaming,
But not because of pain.

I can tell even less,
No more than you could think.
I think I'm dead, but not put to rest.
Would you yell if I let out a scream?

A true friend is anybody suffering like you;
Could be anyone in the streets.
They know about them as much as you about you,
But know you more than anything.

Does that make sense?