Mocking smile, spiteful words--
But behind your cynic's mask
I think at times I see
Two saddened eyes peer out,
And when the mask slips off,
An early deadened face.

Do you keep inside of you
Some time-encrusted pain,
Or walk within the shadow
Of someone you can't pass?
Or are you even sure yourself
Of the reasons for your act?

And is it too late now
To bring your real face back to life?

October '01

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