|
|
| sheila ! |
 |
 |
| masks |
Not so long ago Fate had me looking for pieces of me That I'd lost with the risks I took At loving and living. God didn't disappoint Soon I was picking up the pieces From people He sent to me And it didn't hurt so much to smile and I could laugh again. One of them (people) came With the affects of a child Seemingly sure of himself, almost bold Yet there was tentativeness that could have been shyness. Not minding the fleeting impressions Trusting and without fear I said I was looking for me, and Would he be good enough to help me. He gave me a hug And allowed me a good cry I felt almost whole This person I found, I thought, was kind. Grateful for the wholeness I regained I looked at him and was surprised The face before me Was no longer like a child's. I saw before me A man in a similar plight as I was Only he was looking for himself, Not from the faces he comes across with But within him, his self. The fleeting impressions then made sense I had since then come to see him as a man-child Who had and used masks--- sometimes even two at a time And with so many he had, he lost himself. Guiding and gently coaxing I helped him sort, And throw away some of the masks We chipped away at those that had hardened through time. My uncharacteristic patience paid off The masks I thought have come off And what I found beneath Made me happy, it was a treasure! I fell in love with the man-child And I echoed his words: "I don't have to be anyone else And I'm so happy when I'm with you." I lost track of time I began to believe the treasure was for me to keep I should have known, I should have known better The treasure wasn't mine, and he hadn't discarded all the masks. Tugged at by the demands of life I cry at the fading man-child image before me Was that a mask all the while?, I couldn't get close enough to try to peel it away. The man-child now wears an old mask I don't recognize. Yet the mask continues to speak to me And it confuses me to hear him say: "I don't have to be anyone else And I'm so happy when I'm with you." Now I'm consumed With a sadness I can't set aside I have no doubt the man-child is there beneath the mask But I'm not sure he realizes he has a mask back on. I choose to end my musings at this point Lest I humiliate myself by the thought That I fell in love with a mask And that there was nothing beneath it at all.... Just a shell. On M 14apr01, dvo |
|