Mask

© 9/25/2001 Dennis L Pickering Of what is a mask made? Or is it just a trade? Or an obscuration For the whole duration Masks are but attitudes Upon the latitudes Of all that you desire When you play on your lyre. To get what you possess Though it may bring duress For you or me I guess A mask is such a mess That you have in your life. Masks do cut like a knife. Others in your world Who you wish to unfurl A despot may wear one. But it’s hid by the gun That he does yet possess And uses to caress. Attitudes that you boast That can restrict the most Your desires for fortune That you take from the goon. The hoodlum thinks he’s boss But is only of dross. That you have conspired to Put with the other shoe. The one that you discard As if it were a shard That you no longer guard And put in the junkyard Or the pair you wear proud. Blithely walk to the cloud. On your trek to success Don’t want to make a mess. With the mask you have worn Attitudes you have borne Which are forever shorn From your toe, like a corn That causes discomfort In the specific port That you have anchored in On your way to the win The train you ride upon That takes you to the dawn Of the new beginning That you have strove winning From those who constrained you And wanted you to do Whatever they did ask And put you on a task. One in which you won’t bask. Again, it is their task. That they have chose for you And expect you to do. Everything they desire. Watch out! Stay out of mire. Which will infect your mask When you get on their task. That they desire you do. They care not if you’re blue. Want not to pay your dues That, only gives them blues. Isn’t the task forlorn? That you have chose to birth. Upon this mother earth Within its mighty girth Masks are unsightly things Often they will cause dings In all that you possess In this life of duress This one you’ve gathered up Undergo by your sup As goodly people will And not become a shill. Written September 25th, 2001 © on Sep 27 2001 10:07 AM PST, Dennis Pickering   17 • 0 • 9