Masquerade

by variousglimpses

We could know each other’s hearts

Everyone

I am enough the idealist to believe that

 

But clichés exist because they hold truth

Knowledge

Is of course power, and power corrupts

 

We are perverse enough as people

To rend

The hearts of others, given the chance

 

For no reason other than to reiterate

Our pain

I am enough the cynic to see that

 

Therefore we front, we evade, we conceal

Ourselves

From the deadly other, whom we fear

 

We fashion our faces like guests to a ball

Masquerading

As revelers, dancing round the artifice

 

And perpetually hidden, we crave

The reveal

The lively flesh of a true human being

 

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