Masquerade

Soul searching, heart lurching
Pondering where I've been
Deep down hiding, not confiding
So I look again.

Behind a mask, I hold steadfast
To plans and pledges made
Then realize, behind blue eyes
Exists a masquerade.


The mask falls off. I laugh. I scoff
At crooked, dusty shelf
But with mask free, I clearly see
(I am. It is.) Myself.

In front of me, for all to see
Are piles of good intentions
Shards of mirror, reflection clearer
Blurred by inattention.

One shard for writing, one for righting
Shattered pieces: wishes
Forgotten plans, no self-demands
No thought, faith, or ambition.

Dejectedly, I looked at these
Like puzzle pieces, shimmering
With utmost care, I start repair
Til silvered glass is glimmering.

And there, exposed, I see My Self
With mask removed. It's baring
No more hair-splitting or hand-sitting,
Just me. I am. It's glaring.

With pen in hand, refreshing stand,
Renewed commitments made --
Wishes don't write books, you know.
That's all a masquerade.

text © 2007 N Bond