Less

5/25/2015

I have a secret fascination,

Of my own design and creation

The picture of you, held up in the dark

Brings me closer to death, in this surreal stark

I run from the light, and you call me a coward

But you haven't tasted that which I’ve devoured

The grid grows longer and wider with age

Dark halos surround all we engage

The frail and the forgotten leave a trail dead and rotten

You wear a mask forlorn, though you never morn

To some the world is a playground, to others it is a cage

But to those who’ve learned as I have learned

By staying close and being one so far from the other

This life is one and only one, a charade to tell our father

And there may be yet another.