Happy is something I’ve forgotten how to feel,
Even though it looks like that’s not the case.
It is the truth though, I’ll tell you that,
That’s not a real smile on my face.

“Plastic smiles” is what they are called.
Really, go look it up.
Then once you get this good at acting,
It’s almost impossible to stop.

On the inside, I’m being torn apart,
Thrown in every which way.
But on the outside, you see, that smile is there.
And I put it on every day.

I’m really messed up, I’ll tell you that.
I can’t do the things you think I can.
And you say that I can’t act?
I’m better than you think I am.

My personality is copied from everyone else,
There is no one who is truly “me.”
I just nod my head and say, “yes of course!”
When they say I can be anything I want to be.

To me, that’s an empty statement.
I don’t know what I want to be.
Actually, I want to be every one else,
Anyone else, except me.

It’s called a “plastic smile.”
Really, go look it up.
Because once you get this good at acting,
It’s impossible to stop.