Mask

He is much too young to be indifferent

Still many years from seeing,

All of life’s tragically beautiful colors

Yet he wears a malaise tinted jacket,

That he should not possess

There is only a few moments,

Where he is seen transformed,

His habitual countenance forgotten

These secrets he will not share

There is no wish, to multiply pity

Not for his sake, it would not be welcomed

Besides only the words could be conveyed

Showing its shape, but leaving the mystery,

Of where it should fit

This puzzle is not ours to solve,

We are only to bear witness

To watch his silent tragedy,

Until his voice can be found

The discovery must be his,

To decide with which words, he will paint

Until then let us show patience,

The aching moments they will be

And have faith, he will soon unveil,

The mask that his pain wears

Reviews

[Patricia]

this is brilliant! I love this. this is poetry my friend!

[G.A. Grim]

Thank you Patricia. I love that you loved it!
- George