Gazing at the face partially hidden by hair
So fair to the naked eye and yet
I still yearn to see that which was never there
Hidden behind the anger and angst
I can still sense the innocence concealed
Hidden behind your plastic perfection.
I can still see in hiding, the child likeness of you.
Contradiction, imperfection, decadence
All part of what embodies life
No reason for pretence or even to hide
No reason to fear what others might say in their minds
Even if broken, shattered or torn apart
Cracked like glass, tainted like cloth
Bleeding and covered all over with scars
I still would accept you just as you are
Wondering when will you allow me entrance
Into that which on my own I am unable
Until you are willing to give me the key
Cold and hard though I feel it must be
Yet sometimes we talk and I am again disappointed
For I feel that you continue to hold me at distance
If that is so then I have no choice
But to wait and hope some day to hear your true voice
If that is not to be then this is the end.
The well has run dry, my feelings in vain.
Until the next being whose heart belongs to you,
I hope she will see a face that is true.
Instead of what I gaze upon in grey fascination,
That which to me is Plastic Imperfection.
