A withered old sage had once retold,
How humans used ears and eyes,
Deranged and foolish everyone calls him,
Believe not the fabricated myths and lies.

Radiant was his face when he described thrill and yearning,
The word love made him look enchanted and serene,
As he wistfully told of things foreign and unknown,
To deaf ears and dull eyes turned to screens.

Torrents of rain came down on that day,
The sky darkened and turned a deep ash gray,
As if to forecast what lay ahead,
An eventwhich would bear years of turmoil and dread.

It's absurd how that day turned into a celebration,
An annual reminder of the approaching termination,
No one seemed to understand the anguish and desolation,
Of the one whose devoid existence was due to that occasion,
And I stood alone among the ruins, destined for damnation.

Eyes crack open with the searing of the darkened sky,
Awaiting the auspicious oncoming day,
Rousing one to feel sanguine with an air of optimism,
Of high hopes and opportunity which close by lay.

Yet with the batting of a wing habitual acts many commence,
Clad in suits mechanically running to and fro,
Aimlessly passing the hours conversing of futile matters,
While falling prisoner to palm sized masters which glow.

To where had gone the early dawn's inspiration,
Of a day utilized past its extent,
Filled with achievements lofty and worthy of pursuing,
Leaving one feeling elated and content?

Anguished with musings of regret and melancholy,
As night comes and with a quilt they wrap,
Earnestly vowing to treasure and wisely use their finite time,
Waking to foolishly fall anew into their own trap.

Barren as an eroding, derelict hut,
Stolid as a slumbering mole,
With foggy eyes I gaze within,
At the destruction of my irredeemable, beastly soul. 

Clarity has not settled in me for an eternity,
Contentment has left me standing solitary and bereft,
The guiding staff of rationality has long not berated me,
And my battered conscience silenced and stifled has been left.

Enter here, shamelessness, rancor, and spite,
Warm yourselves by the smoldering ashes of this defiled heart,
Complete the work of delusion, and its partner, despair,
Witness with apathy as the remaining shards of goodness
from my being depart.

Silent and timid
Her lips curve up into a shy smile
Concealing sharp remarks and loud declarations

Eyes gleaming with innocence
Hide the shrewdness and depth within them
Which capture the world around her

Not long passes before you're amused to see
She speaks of music and art and poetry
If at first you saw no reason to show her recognition
You consider her now with interest

Soon enough you discover
An intense love of novels burns within her
Her vocabulary is vast and she has written sonnets of her own

Now you are astonished
Regarding her with curious eyes
You want to learn more
And wish to enter the crevices of her mind

More surprises surface
What she speaks suits not your first impression of her
Her opinions and views and philosophies are broad
Covering many topics and questions
She is a pillar of tradition
Yet she ventures into foreign pastures
And your amazement increases tenfold

You slowly break through her former barriers
Walls high and guarded as those of a castle
Gradually uncovering her feelings and her dreams
Awed and bewitched you are left
And you cannot grasp what you've beheld

How deceiving the long skirt which drapes her
How misleading the modest blouse she wears
And the simple way she wears her hair
Delude all who see her

Appearance has fooled us all so greatly this time
By branding a girl something
Which her clothes falsely imply.