Here we come, a busy people

trotting to and fro.

You’d never guess;

we hardly let it show.

 

In fact, I say, neither would they.

They can’t tell, themselves.

We’re blind and dumb,

but happy all the same.

 

With complacency comes bore, yet

imagination’s

dead, so instead

we fixate on our phones.

 

Communication, you’d think, would

be upon the rise,

but it’s not true,

Chatter struts her wide stride.

 

It’s all in the lens, you know, though.

Let’s not be too sore.

Plenty of us

know what these things are for.

 

It’s them or us, so act we must:

Ignore distraction;

we hold the line,

and express intention.

 

I have a friend, whose smile is

plastered on his face.

So does his drum

beat to a different pace?

 

His joy does spring eternal, and

his glow brightens rooms.

Everybody

seems to forget their gloom.

 

So why am I then frightened, when

his teeth shine on me?

There’s something there,

a curiosity.

 

My own smile is slow and scarce,

but it’s quite something

those times I feel

like I just need to sing.

 

No one eats cake in exclusion

to nourishment, or

else they find there’s

less than bargained for.

 

So how can we be happy, when

happy’s all you see?

Emotion comes

in flavors

vast and strange and plenty.

 

I know some people mask themselves

in cheer, fancy-free.

And I know me;

my reserved empathy.

 

For we’re not that different, we just

pretend for people.

The difference is

my friend doesn’t fool me.

 

I dare not join in the fun, cause

I would get depressed.

These silhouettes,

undressed for me to see.

 

In our heads we know, to laugh the

naked audience.

But with teeth bright,

they seem to mock your might.

 

Do I call people out on this -

spotlight their fake face -

when they wouldn’t

understand their disgrace?

 

I must remove my mask to speak -

but what is the use?

I don’t expect

To reach some kind of truce.

 

So!

 

Exit, Brendan, stage left. Enter

Victoria, right.

My social life

must burn down with my fright.

 

My heart, my drive, will survive flame -

Lots of masks will too.

But I wager

that I’ll take down a few.

 

My object in life: don’t do it.

Don’t fake happiness.

I draw the line;

false love can burn to death.