The ice seems ten feet deep
in the midst of winter’s chill
with a promise all is well
before the cracks are revealed

the darkest depths await beneath
always there outside of sight
all too close if truth is known
regarding strength now foretold

scant inches are the mark
a lack of support now disguised
instead of thickness most enjoy
when striding about their lives

a truer measure of the heart
is the peril now close by
than impressions of the mask
denying all till aftermath

peril waits for the fall
dropping down into the depths
most often hidden from the view
from the ones that could console

when the cracks open up
support is lost in the end
that quiet doom near at hand
finally taking the innocent.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190528.