Masks

Underneath the ghost light
The painted faces of forgotten players
Watch the empty seats.
 We learn our lines,
A facade of love,
 the grammar of the masters has only served to divide.
We touch for a moment,
 two understudies insecure in our roles.
Deep down we both know we will never shine.

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  1. You know I love this poem. It really makes me want to cry.

    Always reminds me a love that should have been but couldn’t.

    Fabulous, just fabulous. J

  2. Thank you very much Jamhenry. It is indeed about a love that should have been.

  3. So sad….just lovely, though. Sublime. Thank you for posting this. And see you Saturday yaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!

  4. Thanks Emma. It can be difficult putting a poem out there. Roll on Saturday!!

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