by Anne Stockholm
Sometimes, because of who we are, we hide behind masks..
We select convenient realities..
We whisper when we want to shout..
Hold a fist when we want to hold a hand..
Lie when we want to tell the truth
and lock ourselves inside when we want to knock on someone’s door.
We bend where we were made to break
and we cheat ourselves from given joys of a simple life.
We crawl even if we know how to fly
and we build up walls when we should be breaking them.
We act for everyone else as if we’re all movie stars
and we do it so well that by the time our true faces try to earn some recognition,
no one believes us anymore…
By the time we finally try to be ourselves,
people grant us thoughtlessness..
The facade becomes too realistic
and our real lives slowly fade into a script that no one is interested in..
The spotless pretensions become the art that determines our identities,
taking the place of the masterpiece that should have been our imperfections.
We put too much effort into trying
even if we should not even have to..
There is nothing to prove
but that in itself demands to be proven..
We sacrifice bits of our happiness
in place of other people’s cheap satisfaction and acceptance.
We blur the lines that carve our hands and our hearts,
keeping the wolves from tracing our secrets – secrets that we never wanted to keep in the first place.
We smile and keep the cracks in our souls from revelation,
thinking that “perfection is the ticket to the new world.”
We continue to hide the misery that makes us all human
even though we know we can never be god.
In our struggle to find that comfort on level ground
the world is just aching to see that moment when we fall to our knees.
We don’t have to be so afraid.
It’s okay to let go…
If you had the admiration of a thousand people
before you were knocked down,
a million more will respect you
for not being ashamed of it…
Perfection isn’t measured based on how we keep from falling apart.
Rather, it’s by the truth we reveal when it all breaks into a thousand pieces.
When we fail, our masks won’t be able to help us.
Scripts and lighting won’t alter anything
but the cameras will still continue to roll.
Stained and broken
you are suddenly caught in the climax of real life.
The only thing you can ever do
is to make it YOUR masterpiece and yours alone.
At the crack of the ring master’s whip
the show must go on..
“Lights,.. Camera… Action!”
Join in and write your own page! It's easy to do. How? Simply click here to return to Inspirational Poems.