What is Real


We hide behind smoke and mirrors.
Forced by our thoughts and fears,
That others might feel disappointed by what they see.
Curtains become our friends.
The only ones on whom we depend.
For trusting in any other is a gamble.
The masks we've cast
Hide us from failures of the past.
Though through them it is hard to enjoy the present.
One day,
In a longing sort of way,
The mask will crack,
The curtains will tear,
And the smoke will clear.
And at the moment we won't care
For we would be free
Free to show
What is real.


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