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The great pretender
Can I still make amends?
For I am the one that still pretends,
That your words are words of care and passion.
I twist and turn in awkward fashion
At the empty eyes seen in mirrors
For I am the one that still pretends
Because I cannot conceive an end
Concealing the agonising torture- I’m rejected
Through perfect smiles my face projected
Tell me, can I still make amends?
I die each second you leave me hanging,
I wish I could have let you know me,
Because either way
Your rejection burns off my skin
I really like the idea behind this poem...there are just a couple spots where it seems to be to blunt/rash. This is just my personal preference, but I like poetry to make the idea happen in my mind. For example, the line "concealing the agonizing torture" is very...well...agonizing. Give me an image that makes me feel agonizing torture instead of just showing me the words "agonizing torture." I love the idea of this poem, and I wouldn't change several of the lines. I'll definitely read some more of your stuff. Keep writing!