Wrapped in fading muslin cloths Concealed from this heinous world But externally competently coated in gold And laden with strings of pearls I lie covered in stagnant stanzas of prose And blinded by magnificent metaphors Rooted deeply to the dreams I once had Safe from external preying predators It is so embedded - this false bravado This knowledge that I cannot be harmed Since I live cocooned in a warped web Away from all contemptuous scorn It is my nightmare to one day meet the person Whose personality I extrinsically imbibe Whose flaws are inherently ingrained Whose massive clout is just a bunch of lies I live a life of extreme duality with Two different faces like day and night Where the confident exterior is thrust forward And the childlike interior pushed out of sight What could possibly be more daunting Than saying there is a constant war Between a calm but constantly cloaked self And a superficiality that leaps out the door Wrapped in fading muslin cloths Concealed from this heinous world I lie still without the courage to get up and face The part of me that has outwardly unfurled
Are we the people we claim to be ? Are we willing to let go of the Facade we create to move On in life ? How deep are our Own concealments? Are they enough To create a completely different Visage or merely to cover up the Unseemly disastrous people We really are ? Two versions of The same person - the brighter, Perkier, happier versions we want To be seen as, to project to the world Versus the lesser versions we are In reality. Sometimes it seems some Remnants of the real us peak through The smooth layers of paint making Us pentimenti . The challenge of Course really is how many layers of Paint are required to shield the Reality, the real person even if just On the surface. Why do the bubbles Of truth burst once they reach the Surface of the water ? They do Because in travelling up they lose The strength to fight the environment Of the outside world no matter how Hard they try and show up on the Surface. The truth never outs and Thus we are able to maintain our Facades - the pentimento. Shakespeare had once said “truth Will come to light ”.... but does it ? Isn’t it better buried and forgotten ? Are we really seeking out the truth ? Can someone ever be completely Understood? Do we really want to be understood or are we cocooned in The warmth of our multiple selves, Our hidden intentions? We are A strange breed - we want the truth, We supposedly seek the truth but are Unwilling to let others see the truth of Our own selves thereby revealing Ourselves to them. What if the reality Is not the person they wanted to see- What if the real us is lesser , much Lesser than our projected selves ? People who do this- which of course Includes all of us, like the comfort of Living in the shadows , lurking near The mucky bedrock of lies and Deceit..... a place that both protects And safeguards the darkest secret Of all- we aren’t and never will be enough For our own selves, in our own eyes.... And this pretence will never be Lifted lest we actually find ourselves, Meet ourselves one day - from the Depths of the smoke and shadows .