When I step into the light
I think of you with all my might
And try to imagine how you must see
The showcase of drama that has become me.

Each morning when I wake up from dreams
I put on my mask and shun all my screams
I put on my clothes and walk out the door
And go to my job, where I wish for more.

If Shakespeare wrote sonnets
And Plath wrote what's honest,
Will rhyming couplets and emotion
Free me from this notion
That the minute I quit my showcase
You'll take pleasure in it's disgrace?