The Divine Mask

With hands as worn
and scared as mine,
she says I've never
seen hard times?
When did her family
leave the bosom
of her life?
Did she even look
into the darkness of my eyes?
Has my mask
become so divine,
that it hides a man
that's dead inside?

another sad poem

although i can relate more to this...
check spelling for "scared" and "bossom"

loni balogna

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