Words from a Tortured Soul's World
"My Mask"

I studied myself in the mirror that next day, well after you had left
The shattered pieces of glass that I had mounted randomly to the cabinet
Bore a reflection of me that I'd never noticed before...
Indignant and without remorse for things I'd done and
For what I've become over these past few years.
I've earned the right to flash these cold eyes and mocking grin to you.
We both know they are but a mask that I use to cover my soul
And I accept this
It the world that sees me as wrong
As a weakened, unproductive, has-been
Puttering about in an unacceptablely romantic fantasyland.
I will bear my mask and continue to wait for my prince, my King Arthur, my savior
And the world can laught me to sleep.