| Frayed: I often wonder The worth of my being. Did they long wait in vain? What am I not seeing? Or am I correct In the guilt of my soul... Do I hurt more than not? Play a meaningless role? This game of reality Leads me to believe, That all those around Do naught but decieve. Living to love And be loved in return, Sounds simple enough- Until all tables turn. I stop for a moment To remember the past, Wonder why roles- Good or bad- Had been cast. All those within it- This realm of facades- Wear the necessary masks To help them beat odds. Showing only enough To get what they want; Though some do not stop With the thrill of the hunt. My own has become More than my aid, Now defined by what's seen- My identity's been frayed. Deadened and dulled, Scarred and unseen... My real face is hidden- Ashamed by what's been. Under cover of darkness, Behind doors that are locked, Stays the me that's forgotten- That's been beaten and rocked. Only accessible By those that I trust. And when finally discovered, Found blanketed with dust. |
| Once radiant and bold, Now sensitive and frail; My eyes adjust slowly. I fear they might fail. Without conviction to guide And confidence to lead, I may never again Have the strength that I need. Unsure what awaits, I slowly reveal The only thing left I have that is real. My vulnerable heart, Though in shock, still sincere... Desires no more Than a helping hand near. Following ever Where promises are made, Forgetting how recent It had last been betrayed. By them and by him, But more often by me... It's this horrible reality It refuses to see. The mask that became More than it should, Bled into my soul- Tainted all that it could. Now nothing remains Of the innocent child Who reached to the clouds, Hummed a tune while she smiled. What stands in the place Of the soul left behind, Is entirely new- Body and mind. The loss of this being, Replaced by what's here, Left nothing behind But the trail of my tear. Though oft reminiscent Of what could have been, There's no sense in feeling Any guilt for his sin. And though I can never Regain the control He stole from beneath me- He stole from my soul, I must learn to accept This new twist in my tale If I want to grow stronger, And not let life go stale. |
| Masks |
| These are poems that I've written about the masks that people wear. Though some people are unable to take them off, and others find no need for them at all, I am still working on the confidence I need to remove the many that I wear all at once. I used to have no need for any, but unfortunately I am trapped behind a world of them now. |
| Being Human: I am a worthless speck of human... Being nothing. Having nothing... Knowing nothing... Doing nothing... Saying everything. With nothing to back it up- Justifiably. Undeniably, All that I speak of is myself, In denial. I ought to be the judge For my own trial. My masks are my defenses, In every sense. Present tense- I ought to go back, Whence I came. At least so not to disgrace, My own name. (More than I have) What a shame. |
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