Thought is ******.
Freely thinking of anything.
In the safety of the mind,
One can be mad:
                                        A jealous fool,
                                        A lover,
                                        A ******,
                                        A murderer.
Anything he fancies.
The true self
That is hidden,
Often times behind our masks:
                                       A smile,
                                       A blank stare,
                                       A muscle contracting,
                                       A layer of skin.
The mask is so familiar;
It seems like truth,
Yet the knowledge of falsehood
Lie deep inside like:
                                      A root,
                                      An anchor,
                                      A burrow,
                                      A secret.
Deep down in the caverns
Of the body.
Once light shines,
We can see:
                                     A horror,  
                                     A misshaped,
                                     A disgusting,
                                     A vexing sight.
Lies and truths,
Mixed as if one.
The sight is unbearable,
So we keep it locked away:
                                     A convict,
                                     An enemy,
                                     A rat in trap,
                                     A prisoner.
The prison of
Our socially acceptable
Will destroy completely
Our true personality:
                                    A self,
                                    An image,
                                    An x-ray,
                                    A representative.
Tis dangerous, that our identity
Is safe within the confines
Of our mind freely thinking.
Because thought is ******.