A Dance
Of cute charades
You may have missed the bliss.
The day I turned to mist.
Yet I was there if you care.
To tie into the affair.
Hidden from hungry eyes,
Facts behind facades,
Trying to be someone else,
A dance of cute charades.
In the room, the singer's croon,
The actors dress to please,
All hidden behind costumes
Sleight with slippery ease.
In a crowd or by myself,
Being out or on the shelf,
Walking down the avenue,
Hand in hand or by myself
When it's gone, the moments lost,
Money's not the only cost,
The damage is done deep within,
It was executed on a whim.
Now behind the walls of brick,
The amour is increased,
Nothing's seen that is obscene,
The property is leased
I watch and wait for a fate,
That seems synonymous,
With the layers that I add,
To my carapace.
Now the costume that you wore,
Has fallen to the ground,
Nothing left to discover,
in the lost and found.
©
David Rudder
2022
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