There is something to admire about actors, They who live a lie, Those that will tell you they love you, Just to leave you to die. Those who hold out their hands, Broken, mangled, and sad, To tell you they are happy here, That they only want to see you glad. There is something to admire about the mad, They who live free, They who have abandoned all reason, Just so they can see. Those can walk as they please, In lands they make their own, Who can find joy in all things, Even if they walk alone. There is something to admire about myself, I who live a lie, I who walk alone, Because I smile instead of cry. I who hunger for freedom, Yet fear the loneliness that would bring, I who wear a mask of thorns, Who is but a prop to wear a thing. Better to fall into wonderland, Or to stand solemn and proud, To be alone by the sea, Or to be lost in a crowd.