Those people are not like me. Emptiness hides behind their weary lying eyes. I often wonder if they know how to live, if they have ever experienced what I have. Do you think they have ever Felt in their shallow lives that they are missing out. I wonder if they have ever felt the gut wrenching sadness I have or if they have ever laughed as loudly as I. Each morning they awake and immediately apply their faces, I guess it's just one of their many cover ups. Those beautiful people don't need personalities, their looks keep them standing. They can't shimmer inside, not like I. Everyone loves them for their...... what is it?. They've never known and I don't think they ever will. Those beautiful people with the glassy eyes, they are not like me.