Memoir Of Sadness Poem by Quintin Bouillon

Sitting here I just can't wait.
The director smiles and looks at me.
She tells me that I can't participate,
What a terrible decree.
I hold a smile on my face
I tell her it's ok...
But the truth is that's not the case
In my head I run away.
I run far away from home.
I run all through the night
I run even though the exhaustion come.
It seems to bring me delight.
Because this is the pain I can deal with
Unlike the pain that she brought me
And my hard outer shell is but a myth
A facade of who I wish to be...