by Eva
Smiling faces, plastic faces,
Making believe that all is well.
Tear-stained pillows, broken hearted,
Full of secrets, yet none to tell.
Yes, I love them.  I long to hold them.
I long to tell them I love them so.
But maybe some day, maybe one day,
The courage will come to let them know.

Yet, another year has come and gone.
Another year and still no sound.
Maybe one day, maybe some day,
Yet, tear-stained pillows are still around.
Yes, maybe one day, maybe someday,
A heart full of secrets will utter its sound.
Is there time to let them know?
Maybe tomorrow.
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