GRAVE
So many questions unanswered,
I'm speaking so much,
Yet saying so nothing.
They say we wear masks,
But I have a face hemmed
To various faces mercurial,
So much for me I seem a task,
Herculean to figure.
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Of the how(s) the why(s),
The constant surge of tears,
Hidden like the creeping swamps of the mangroves.
The loud humming of clashing voices burying the one that's claims to be mine.
We are all hear smiling,
but my heart needs a million men and twice as much women
The load to bear.
But you'll catch me there,
In my eye's corner, an escaped salty leak,
But I'll quickly recover,
A fabric to the rescue,
As I tell you the flimsy tale,
Of dust blown past my eyes so grave,
Whilst you'll shrug your usual
With the empty sorry,
And inflict on me verbal blows.
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