My Outfit Mr.Fine Poem by Alim Lamont

Mr.Fine doesn't feel good,
He doesn't feel bad,
See, his existence is a fine line that allows my human body to function without the benefits of either, although there's nothing wrong, there's nothing right,
No tears yet no light,
Mr. Fine will never be happy,
But he'll never be sad,
Nothing will satisfy,
Nor bring him to cry,
His true feelings tucked away and smothered by artificial emotions momentarily convincing to even himself, with a dash of passiveness all laced together with a counterfeit smile of agreement and glee,
I wear him like a name tag so that the pain infecting me may not be made contagious to others,
It's like he's part of me,
He's used to be friendly and show no hostility,
He blends nicely to any variety offered by society,
He's my outfit worn in front of many and to all we're a kind friend who makes their day, probably brings a smile their way, but we, are never happy... Cant say we're sad, just unsatisfied, never glad,
this outfit it's me, I mean it's mine,
if you ever ask about it, I'll just say,
I'm fine.