Behind each mask there lurks an injured soul,
we do not note or see it while we pass,
hurt eyes observe us, vacant as a whole.
Nothing becomes us like our daily role
in the human drama,we all show our class;
behind each mask there lurks an injured soul.
Surviving the day, that's our normal goal,
not showing that we're brittler than glass;
hurt eyes observe us, vacant as a whole.
Our hearts have been entombed at the south pole
and we've been bound into a solid mass;
behind each mask there lurks an injured soul.
What pain we feel, burns inside like a coal
that's solid though it seems just like a gas;
hurt eyes observe us, vacant as a whole.
Where once was heart, now there is just a hole,
what once was gold now seems like cheapest brass.
Behind each mask there lurks an injured soul;
hurt eyes observe us, vacant as a whole.
(C)2007, Fragano Ledgister
Circle
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Wondering what UCLA alumni poets are up to? Check out Circle Poetry
Journal, a published-by-referral-only journal, coming out Fall 2013. First
Cycle includ...
11 years ago
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