I have been most quite and silent and seemingly 
peaceful and serene.  But what is seen in the 
surface is not what it is at the bottom: 

"A raging tumult of a troubled mind." 

Quite all through out, and seemingly well 
composed and relaxed, but agonizing and 
struggling inside against something that slowly 
and painfully nibbling away what little joy and 
what little happiness I have before. 

The mask of a smile upon my face seemed like 
an exhausting effort and a tiresome burden that 
quickly vanished into a solemn and sullen 
countenance, once the purpose of it is served: 

"... to hide, least, they know." 

It is no more genuine, but a fake appearance 
that says "...all is well with me."  But the eyes 
betrayed what the soul is going through ....