The Artist's Pain

You look at blacks and the whites

I tread in the grays.

I have mastered to hide it in a thousand ways.

Deafening screams inside my soul,

The world outside glitters with fame.

I stood on the stage and sang of my loneliness,

The world cheered on, applauded.

No one looked behind the curtain

As my gaunt reflection stared at me.

They all want a piece of me,

No one sees the living, breathing man inside,

How can you separate the art from the artist?

When all I write is a part of me.