Dance of the masques
Contributor
Written by
Lee Roberts
August 2019
Contributor
Written by
Lee Roberts
August 2019

Dance of the masques

Image: Pixabay

precious pain like stained glass 
fragile yet beautiful 

cast aside your mask she says 
gleefully tossing hers aside across the room

it lands with a bounce
upon the heart shaped bed

rose coloured glasses in the temple of doom 
never in fashion you should know this by now

peeling and peeling she removes layer after layer 
yet the task is never ending and the masks are countless

her head swims with numbers backwards and forwards
left and right ~ sideways and inside out 

exhausted she collapses in a corner 
with yet another masque in her hand

and one upon her face, and with a heaving sigh
she glances - at the masques all over the place

in disbelief shaking her head
"These cannot all be mine" 

she peels another and another adding them to the mountain of masques
in the middle of the room and begins to cry.....

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