Masked

As a young father

each crisis that arose

threatened to expose me 

for the fraud I was

I marveled at the sureness

my own father had shown

and I never wondered

that he had any uncertainty

Then I saw my father old

weakened and dependent

and I wore the mask

of maturity

Inside was a dwarf child

whining and manipulating

crying blackly at the unfair

twisting good bad right wrong

While outside I showed nothing

no good bad right wrong

a steady voice, hand and eye

the lie multiplied again

The mask became a part of me

indeed it became me

and I became my mask

and asked that it be of me

Still now and then

the withered child

rose in rebellion

a thin mewling voice

Nagging at my soul

reminding me of reality

and all I had hidden

and hoped to leave behind

As I become

the weaker older man

I await a son

to rescue me

To don the mask

that life demands

and live within

and again