What mask do you wear?

It changes by the day,

even by the hour.

Keeping up is an ordeal,

heavy on the brain

tricky for the emotions.

You disguise you.

It beguiles me.

Is the truth that lethal

that it should be hidden in fear.

Will it constitute calamity,

will it destroy us, them?

What facades you have,

ever you feel burdened by their number?

Dear, let me tell you this:

escape, any escape, is but momentary.

Threats build their own walls,

truth breeds its own roots.

Fears will always take shape.

And they seek you.

Rebel.

November 2000