Behind the Mask:
it seems a face,
but the cage build the disguise of masters,
the waters run solid raising touring intelects
It seems a Skull,
dots predicting the future of our past
and the naked mind is in flames
drying unending imaginations.
It seems a Mask,
dust of words are shield of Vail
out spoken with shyness,
what do we create, consideration not demanding,
but the dust sprinkled in the air,
with no sign of perfection
but inhaled to get attention.
Behind the mask are numbers, we all failed to understand.
How often do people write what they feel in poetry. write back. topomzblog.wordpress.com