Tuesday, November 25, 2008

My mask

I wear this mask to protect myself
I hide behind it, secretly peering out
Seeing without being seen

I see your world
I write about its defiant depths
I write about its dizzying heights
I write about the width and breadth of it

I am like the child
Trying to feel the thrill of the roller coaster
By standing beside it watching your faces
I can feel the shaking as it rumbles past
But I will never know the cold feel
Of that bar cinched down across my lap

I am your secret admirer
Always watching as you live your life
Trying desperately to feel your passions
But from the safety of my mask
The words behind which I cower

Desire drives me
Fear restrains me
If I could, I would not
If I would, I could not
My hands shake and my palms sweat
And the words cover my angst

I am your stalker
Flowering your world with my prose
Phonetically espousing my mask of love
I have such passion and ardor
Behind this mask of words

Live your life and pay no heed
To the man behind the curtain
As he weaves his words
And creates the next mask
To distract anyone from ever seeing

I wear this mask of words cleverly knit
And no one really knows me
That makes me alone and very afraid
And yet, here I am, creating another mask

This mask wears your face
These eyes see your world
These lips speak your words
This heart feels yours beating
For this one brief intense moment
We are one and the same

For this one moment
I feel the cold metal of the bar
I feel the wind in my face
I feel the roar of the wheels on the track
I feel that inescapable pull
Of Earth’s tender tether

And then I know
For this one moment
This one short powerful moment
As we share your world
We share my pain

And I am not so alone
For a moment

Ron Simpson, Jr.
November 25, 2008